Saving Gielinor
by Epic Victorr
Summary: A story set in the world of Gielinor. The main character is Victoros Paladine, a Slayer from the ASF. As several villainous groups seek to dominate the world, individual heroes must work together and save Gielinor in the midst of an economic crisis.
1. Victoros' New Quest

Victoros Paladine walked along the dark passage, his heart beating loudly. The walls were lined with flickering torches, lighting the long path ahead. Victoros turned a corner and walked slowly into a large room. Five other figures sat around a large stone table, talking quietly amongst themselves. Victoros made a move to join them, and one of the figures noticed him, raising a hand in greeting.

"Hey, Victoros," the man called out. "You've finally arrived."

"Good to see you again, Dirk," Victoros replied, smiling slightly.

Victoros Paladine was part of an organization called the Ardougne Slayer Force, otherwise known as the ASF. Their job was to fight off menaces threatening the grand city of Ardougne, and see to the city's well-being. They weren't a public group; rather, the ASF work in the dark, silently guarding over Ardougne. Victoros himself was one of the most efficient Slayers in the organization even though he had just joined one year ago; Dirk was the leader, a veteran of ten years. There were currently eleven members in the organization; five of them were out doing their missions.

"Well, guys," Dirk said, as Victoros took a seat next to him. "It's time to discuss some important matters. Sloane, the hellhounds near Ardougne are being very active again, I think it's time for you to set things right in their lair."

Sloane nodded, and Dirk moved on. "Chonalin, you should check out the Khazard warriors south of the city. Ever since their general's defeat, they've been very disorganized, and I fear it might be a matter of time before some of them launch an assault on Ardougne."

"Sure thing, Dirk," Chonalin replied. Dirk moved on until he had finished assigning tasks to all the members. He then stood up and sighed.

"Listen up, fellow members," Dirk said quietly. "I've been monitoring the Serkotzul group's actions, and I fear they are once again at large."

Sloane groaned and Victoros grunted. The Serkotzul are an organization of ten powerful warriors skilled in the act of being evil. If they're active again, that means the ASF would have to take on them some time in the future. Taking on the Serkotzul means tough business, and even some of the most skilled warriors in Gielinor would not want to face a Serkotzul member one-on-one.

Dirk proceeded to warn the members of the Serkotzul, and he rounded up the meeting by telling Victoros of his task. "Listen up, Victoros. I've got a dangerous task for you, which involves heading into the wilderness. I've received a report that the Serkotzul are hiding a red dragon in the wilderness; a dragon by the name of Dracenios. I've heard that it's far stronger than any of its breed, so please take extra caution."

Victoros grinned and rested his hand on his sword hilt. "Don't worry, Dirk, I'm sure I can handle it, Dracenios or not!" With that, the Slayer stood up, bowed to his comrades, and headed out of the ASF hideout to the applause of the others.

A few hours later, he had arrived at the border of the Wilderness ditch north of Varrock. By foot it would have taken several days, but he had ridden a Gnome Glider specially reserved for the ASF, piloted by skilled gnome pilot Gardo. Victoros jumped over the Wilderness ditch, and he instantly felt the ashy air of the wretched land. Danger lies everywhere in this forsaken place, but Victoros was prepared for it.

Victoros journeyed north from the Varrock entrance and he eventually reached the cave entrance where Dracenios was supposed to be living in. Just then, two Revenant Dragons appeared out of nowhere and growled angrily at Victoros.

"We're not going to let you into Master Dracenios' lair!" one of the Rev Dragons growled.

"Not without a fight, anyway!" the other Rev Dragon added, baring its fangs.

Victoros pulled out his Saradomin Godsword and grinned at the two Dragons. "Bring it on, uglies! I promise it won't take long before I kill you both!"

The two Revenants glided rapidly towards Victoros, who quickly dodged their charge. He plunged the Saradomin Godsword into one of the Rev's head, driving the dragon onto the ground. The other dragon quickly glided towards Victoros again, mouth wide open; however, Victoros pulled his Sword from the first dragon's head and lopped the second Rev's head off swiftly with one stroke.

"Curse you, warrior," the first dragon growled weakly as it died. Victoros ignored its ghostly voice and hurried into the dark grasp of Dracenios' cave.

Meanwhile, in an old building located in the other side of the Wilderness, a hooded man dressed in black robes walked up to another man who was wearing full armor.

"Sir," the hooded man drawled. "According to our spies, the ASF have sent a Slayer to battle against Dracenios in the Wilderness."

The armored man was not surprised or worried. In fact, he sat down on a chair and replied, "I don't really give a damn, Sliske. Dracenios is nothing but a ruse; something to distract the ASF while my plan goes into effect. If that big brute gets slain, nothing will be lost. My plan for world domination is much more important; it must succeed, with the interference of ASF or not."

The hooded man, Sliske, nodded once. "All right, sir," Sliske hissed. "Just to tell you, every member in the Serkotzul is ready to carry out your plan to dominate Gielinor."

The armored man smiled. "Thank goodness for that. Bring me a cup of coffee and rally the members, all right?" Sliske nodded again and walked out of the door.

Victoros approached the magnificent dragon slowly. Dracenios loomed tall and strong in front of him, and the dragon's large red eyes glared down at him with hatred. Victoros gripped his Sword more tightly than ever and quickly braced himself for sudden action. Dracenios let out a huge roar and lashed out its tail directly at Victoros, who jumped into the air quickly, dodging the blow.

"Why are you here, human?" Dracenios snarled, smoke bursting out of its nostrils.

"I'm here to slay you," Victoros answered. "Isn't it obvious, seeing that you're a dragon?"

Dracenios roared in anger. First the Serkotzul had captured him and put him in this dark cave, and now more humans than ever are invading his lair. Can't he have peace for once? "I'll finish you off quickly, human," the dragon snarled, and stepped forward. Victoros quickly got into combat stance once more.

Dracenios let out a huge stream of blazing fire to eradicate the puny intruder, but Victoros lifted his Dragonfire Shield in time to block the fiery breath. The fire slammed onto his shield, sending Victoros crashing back onto the ground. His Shield had absorbed the worst of the fire, but it was still strong enough to hurl him onto the ground.

Wincing, Victoros managed to stand upright again. "It's going to be a long, long day," he sighed as he watched Dracenios prepare to send another blast of fire zooming his way.


	2. Disbanded

"You big ugly brute, let's end this once and for all," Victoros roared as he jumped aside to dodge the blast of fire. Dracenios let out a billowing growl which shook the cave walls, and lashed out his large tail again. Victoros waited till the last second, and then quickly jumped forward to dodge the lashing tail, landing right on Dracenios' scaly back.

"Get off, human!" Dracenios roared. The monstrous dragon started veering around, trying to shake Victoros off with all the vibration. The Slayer held on with grim determination with only one hand. His free hand gripped the heavy Saradomin Godsword upright. Dracenios roared again and proceeded to shake his body harder and quicker than ever, but fortunately Victoros still hung on for dear life.

_I can't perish here in this grim wasteland, _Victoros thought. The warrior finally gripped the opportunity when Dracenios stopped shaking briefly from tiredness. Victoros held his Sword tightly, and quickly plunged it into Dracenios' neck with all his might. The Godsword's mighty power instantly sliced through the dragon's thick neck, lopping the head off. Victoros jumped back onto the ground, holding onto his Sword, as Dracenios' headless body crashed beside him. The Slayer glanced at the dragon's corpse with grim satisfaction, and walked out of the cave.

"Mission accomplished. It's time to go home."

Victoros journeyed back to the Varrock ditch several hours later. Maybe it was pure luck, but he did not encounter a nasty Revenant monster at all during the tiring trek. Maybe his slaughter of Dracenios scared the Revenants away, but the tired Slayer was thankful for that. He walked over to where Captain Gardo was waiting to take him home.

"Hey, Victoros," Captain Gardo called out. The gnome pilot was already strapped in the pilot's seat on the magnificent Gnome Glider. "You actually managed to kill Dracenios? Wait till Dirk hears about this!" The gnome extended a small hand to help Victoros up. The Slayer swung himself into the passenger's seat and nodded tiredly.

"It wasn't that hard, but it was the toughest battle I've ever fought before," Victoros stated. "Let's go back to Ardougne, Gardo."

"Aye, aye, Slayer!" The Gnome Glider took off into the sky…

"WHAT?" Victoros yelled in disbelief. Dirk nodded grimly as the ten other Ardougne Slayer Force members glanced at each other in horror. Victoros groaned. He had returned triumphantly only to receive more bad news?

"You heard it correctly, Victoros. We are disbanding, at least momentarily," Dirk said sadly.

"Why?" Chonalin demanded.

"It's because of the economic crisis. The city of Ardougne has decided to stop funding us," Dirk explained. "I find it quite strange and hurried, though; just a few months ago, the King himself signed a contract to continue supporting us through the next five years. Even in the economic crisis, Ardougne wasn't suffering as badly as the other cities. Just look at ; houses are being taken over just because the citizens could not pay their monstrous taxes!"

Chonalin's eyes narrowed, and he started to say something, but Dirk shushed him with a wave of his hand. "The decision is final. Without the city to support us, we cannot continue. Sloane's death at the paws of the hellhounds has further discouraged the citizens from trusting us any further. You've all done a good job these few years, and I hope once the economy rights itself again, we can get back together."

As the members of the ASF filed out of the hideout one by one, Dirk stopped Victoros on his way out. "Victoros continue to keep an eye on the Serkotzul, will you? The economic crisis has gotten worse over time, but it seems that the Serkotzul are still very much active."

"Of course I will, Dirk," Victoros replied. "What will you be doing now for a living?"

"I'm going to work in my cousins' inn; he's got a vacancy for the bartender job. Unlikely as it seems, I'm quite skilled at bartending." Dirk said. "Where will YOU be going now?"

"I don't know yet. However, I think going to Falador would be a good choice now. The city is still standing, and is still boasting its wealth well. I'll travel there and see what's in store for me."

"Good luck, Victoros." Dirk nodded once, and headed out of the hideout. As Victoros followed his former leader out of the hideout, he closed the sturdy doors to the ASF building, perhaps for the last time.


	3. Into the Sewers

Allen Hawkins was just returning back to his home from a tiring workout in the outskirts of Varrock. His Abyssal Whip was covered with the red blood of the Giant Rats that he was helping exterminate. He turned a corner and came within view of his two-story house. He stepped onto the green lawn when he suddenly saw five burly men standing around his house. Carts and cardboard boxes were placed on the front porch. Allen stood stunned for a moment, and yet another man stepped out of the front door. In his hands were some of Allen's possessions!

Allen realized that these men were taking his stuff away! "What the hell are you guys doing?" he screamed. The men turned around and looked at him, surprised. One of the bigger men stepped forward.

"We're hired to take away your property, including your possessions and house. That's because you haven't paid your taxes for two months in a row, and you've got a long list of bills overdue. As long as you continue to slack off from paying, we're going to keep your house."

"Yeah right," Allen snarled. "I paid my damn taxes just a few days ago!"

"Sorry, buddy, but prices and taxes have gone up in Misthalin. No one truly knows why, apart from the King maybe, but that's the way it is. The taxes you paid were the amounts for the last few months, but prices have since gone up. The Misthalin government needs the taxes to pay for new imports and exports, so that's just the way it is."

The burly men had unloaded EVERYTHING in his former house, and were now going away. Allen went into the house, and inspected every room, only to find no trace of his former possessions. Angrily, he went up to his bedroom (which was missing the bed) and ripped out a secret floorboard. Underneath were his secret possessions, including some coins, food, drinks, and green dragonhide armor. He wore the armor, and put the rest inside his large backpack. Allen then left the house, and headed towards his next destination.

_I'll set things right no matter what, _Allen thought to himself as he knocked on a door to a large building. A man wearing dark robes opened the door and Allen was allowed to go inside. He was in a strange bar of a strange inn, the base of operations for the Varrock criminal underworld. He walked up to the long bar and ordered a beer, sitting next to a hooded person dressed in casual clothing.

"What's this about the taxes and stuff, Takrinqer?" Allen asked the hooded man.

"Damn the Misthalin government, I know the economy's bad, but that's no reason to take away my freaking house!" Takrinqer replied angrily.

Allen nodded in shared sympathy. "I know, those guys took away my house earlier today, but I know a way to get it back. By finding the left half of the Shield of Arrav."

"Hey, that half ain't gonna be found anytime soon. I know it's last seen being carried into the Varrock Sewers by some unknown person, but I also know that YOU aren't getting it back. Lots of people have journeyed into the Sewers to try recover the left half, but all they got was a painful death. It's probably guarded heavily by monsters, and you ain't gonna live five minutes in there, mate."

"I know, Tak. But I have to try, don't I? All the citizens are steering clear of the Sewers now, but as a skilled warrior, I'm going to try anyway."

"Well, good luck, mate. But let me remind you, the recently formed Asgarnia Secret Service of Socialists, who I nickname the Troublesomes, are also looking for the left half, as it can be cashed in for a pretty amount at the museum. Steer clear of them."

Allen smiled and nodded. He finished his beer quickly, and was about to leave when his friend Darko stopped him on the way out. Darko was a throwing knife specialist, and sure enough, he was gripping a Rune Knife in his left hand. In his other hand he held a piece of parchment.

"Allen, man, I couldn't help eavesdropping on your conversation with Takrinqer. You looking for the shield? I've got something that's gonna help a whole lot, and it's only for five hundred coins." Darko held out an ancient old map, and Allen quickly scanned it. He slipped five hundred coins into Darko's pouch as his friend handed him the map.

"Thanks, Darko," Allen said, and left the bar, determined to get his house back.

A few minutes later, Allen lit aflame a torch and slowly entered the sewers via the manhole ladder. As he landed on the wet ground, he heard a low growl. The darkness was almost consuming, lit only by the blazing flame of the torch. Allen cautiously walked forward, and pulled out the rusty old map given to him by Darko. He held the torch closer to the map to see it more clearly, but he had more or less memorized the route to the shield by now. As he turned a corner and entered a narrow passageway, two tiny spiders squealed and leapt at him. Allen swung the torch and instantly burned them to crisps, and he began to run now as he heard more growls filling the air.

Allen reached the end of the passageway and quickly smashed down the closed door in front of him. A Giant Rat crawled out from another room beside him, but Allen used his Whip to instantly kill it. He was not going to be bothered by some weak pest.

As Allen continued to trek through the dark Sewers, he kept running into enemies. It was like a maze; the paths twisted and turned, and the darkness wasn't helping him at all. After fighting zombies and skeletons for some time, he decided to stop wasting his energy battling such pests. Instead, as the zombies and skeletons attacked relentlessly, Allen led them into a large room and quickly locked the sturdy old door. Sighing, he continued on and was caught in a spiders' web. He pulled out a sharp knife and sliced through it, freeing himself just as a Giant Spider leapt at him. Allen whipped the Spider to the ground and ran forward into the next passageway. He ran to the end of the passageway and came to a large, open area full of corpses.

Allen crept quietly behind a corpse, and saw a whole hive of deadly red spiders in front of him, pacing around like some kind of army. And then he saw it. The Left Half of the Shield of Arrav was lying on the ground right at the end of the spiders' domain.

He could go right through and get it, but it would come with a cost. The corpses were clearly the work of the spiders. Should he work out a strategy or just go straight through? Allen chose the latter.

"To hell with it!" Allen bellowed as he jumped out from behind the corpse. The Spiders saw him and instantly scuttled forward in an attack formation, determined to rid the intruder. Allen braced himself and charged forward, waving his whip and torch around like some sort of madman. Two particularly large spiders leapt at him, and he used the torch to burn them both. He reached into his pockets as he continued dodging the attacking spiders, and pulled out a few Explosive Potions.

Allen continued on, chucking explosive potions onto the ground as he whipped like there's no tomorrow. Explosions were set off everywhere, but the Spiders kept coming. He was soon covered with small bites, but he ignored the pain and finally came to the Left Half. He dove for it and grabbed it just as he hurled an Explosive Potion at five Spiders who were coming in for the kill. They died as the potion exploded, and Allen ran through the smoke quickly. He never stopped as he raced through the area to try get back to the passageways.

He accidentally stepped on a small button embedded in the dark ground, and suddenly the traps were activated. Spears hurtled out of the holes in the cracked walls, and large swinging axes dropped down from the ceiling. It seemed like the Sewers wasn't going to allow him to just grab the Shield and leave peacefully. Allen used his agility to dodge most of the blows, but he was still injured pretty badly as he ran with all his might, determined to live.

"I can't just die here!" Allen screamed. "I've got a life to live!" A rumbling noise erupted from behind him, and Allen spun around to see a large boulder rolling rapidly towards him. Red Spiders that were tailing him were crushed by the boulder, and Allen hurriedly jumped into the water nearby. He heard the boulder roll past, and emerged from underneath the water. It seemed that the traps had stopped, and he sighed in relief. _I'm finally going to get my house back, _he thought as he climbed out of the water and onto land.

Suddenly, he saw them approaching. The Asgarnia Secret Service of Socialists was coming.

Allen stood up, but he found a sword pointing inches away from his throat. He glanced forward, shaking his hair, which was plastered with dirty water, and saw battalions of soldiers in front of him. Some were wielding spears and axes while others had bows and quivers full of arrows on their back. Other soldiers held blazing torches and banners which had the sign of the Asgarnia Secret Service on it.

"We take it from here, Hawkins," the soldier who had pointed his sword at Allen rasped loudly.

"The Troublesomes!"

"Now please, Hawkins, I find that name insulting! It's not wise to insult people who are about to cut your head off!"

"How do you know my name and why do you keep calling me by my last name? Anyway, you're horrible people anyway, so why shouldn't I insult you, if you even call it an insult? It's just a nickname."

"I take it as very insulting, _Allen_. Now hand me the Left Half right now!"

"I need this to get my house back from the freakin' government!"

"If that's the case, why don't you join us? You'd get a house, maybe even two. How about it? Otherwise, hand me the Left Half or I'll behead you."

Allen stood calmly for a moment, thinking about the offer in his head. In the end, he decided against joining them, and swiftly pulled out his Abyssal Whip. He lashed it forward, and due to the weapon's speed, it easily knocked the soldier to the ground before he could swipe Allen's head off. Allen kicked the soldier's sword into the water, where it sank deeply.

The soldier stood up quickly, and glared at Allen with hatred. He looked around for his sword, saw that it was gone, and backed up slowly. "How dare you even think about attacking me, Captain Leodon Takeeves! Get him, boys!"

The soldiers wielding melee weapons retreated while the archers came forward and started shooting rapid arrows at Allen. Allen ducked and dodged, and swung his whip to grapple onto the wall. He pulled out his three remaining Explosive Potions, and scattered them throughout the soldiers. As explosions occurred, Allen ran through the smoke and to safety. A few minutes later, he had succeeded in escaping the Varrock Sewers in one piece. He almost collapsed onto the ground due to tiredness, but remembered the Socialists, and quickly gathered himself up and ran into the Varrock Museum.

"Here's the Left Half of Arrav's Shield, curator," Allen said weakly, handing Curator Haig Halen the shield half.

"How'd you manage to recover it from the Sewers? Thank you, warrior, here's two million coins to reimburse you for all the trouble."

Allen left the Museum a few minutes later and approached the Grand Exchange, a base for Varrock's government, and the main Exchange of all the cities' Exchanges. He headed straight for the desk, and approached a banker.

"Here's my money. Give me back my house, if you please, I think I have more than enough."

The banker took the money, but gave some back. "Well, sir, your house should be back by night. Here's your change, and if you don't mind me asking, how'd you get yourself into such a messy state?"

Allen realized a lot of people were staring at his appearance, but he decided to keep his encounter with the Socialists and the adventure in the Sewers a secret. "I do mind telling you, so I won't. And, I'm telling you now, I'm on to you government people. Gielinor is having a financial breakdown, and I bet you government are at the bottom of it all. You're always trying to cover things up, taking our money and probably thinking about how to take over the world. I'll get you someday, mark my words." With that, Allen left the Grand Exchange, leaving the banker bewildered.

"It's certainly not my fault that the economy's getting worse and worse…" the banker muttered to himself as he helped another customer.

Meanwhile, far, far away in the Wilderness, the Serkotzul leader stood grinning as Sliske reported the latest news. So, it seems that there's not just one player in this game. With the appearance of the Socialists, it seems that they would have to change their plan a bit.

"The economy can be controlled…" the Serkotzul leader said quietly, and grinned evilly.


	4. Claws of Guthix

Zazime Helcome walked into the library of Varrock. Reldo was sitting at his desk, staring absentmindedly into the ceiling. These were hard times; books were getting more expensive every day, so the library wasn't adding any new ones in the near future. Reldo sighed; that would mean losing a whole lot of the "book nerds" who he actually made friends with. Without new books to keep them satisified, the nerds would soon become the athletic type, and he would have less company in the future. Reldo sighed again, and looked up to notice Zazime for the first time.

"Well, Zazime, what brings you here on this day?" Reldo asked. "Do you want to check out a new book?"

"No thanks, Reldo. Here's the Legend of Arrav back; I just finished it yesterday and it's actually quite a good read. Good thing Zemouregal isn't attacking Varrock anytime soon!" Zazime replied, shuddering at the thought.

Reldo sighed again. Less people these days were checking out books, simply because you had to pay for them now. They were free of charge before; _those were glorious times, _Reldo thought.

"Ah, you can't take anything for granted, but it does seem unlikely," Reldo said, taking the thick book from Zazime. "Speaking of Arrav, I heard some adventurer journeyed into the depths of the Varrock Sewers and managed to recover the missing Left Half of Arrav's Shield. The museum curator was quite happy to get it back."

"Wow, that's really impressive. Anyway, I'm off to train again. In a few days time I'll be heading to the Void Knights Outpost to see my parents again, and I wish to impress them with new skills."

"What have you been training, Zazime?" Reldo asked, standing up and walking over to a bookshelf to put the Legend of Arrav back to where it belonged.

Zazime pulled a Dragon Longsword from its sheath and held it high proudly. "I'm finally able to wield a Dragon weapon after all those months of training with my master Gerard. After I leave the Void Knights' Outpost next week, I'll be a full-fledged adventurer!"

"Great, Zazime. Now hurry along and continue training," Reldo encouraged the young man. Zazime said good-bye to the librarian and left the library, closing the door softly behind him. Reldo took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. _Teenagers these days, they certainly have a lot of freedom, don't they…_

Nicolas Van Guthio walked briskly across the scorched ground of the Wilderness. This wretched terrain was no place for young mages such as himself, but he was determined to go home victorious. Nicolas had read about the newly-discovered Fist of Guthix cave, where stones of powerful energy were located in. Nicolas continued walking; he jumped over a corpse of an adventurer and squinted his eyes. He could see the cave looming right in front of him.

The reason Nicolas had journeyed all the way here was to obtain one of the stones for himself. He was a rich kid, but he wasn't all that spoilt and passion for adventures burned in his blood. Nicolas was from a family of Guthixian mages, and his prized Book of Balance was clutched tightly in his left hand. One of those stones, after being fully charged, could easily power up his Book and grant him more Guthixian strength.

"Well, here goes nothing," Nicolas said quietly. The mage had battled many Revenants before arriving here; thankfully, he had not met a Revenant Dragon, which would probably have ended his life. Who knows what dangers would lay in the Fist of Guthix cave? The newspaper sure didn't say, but it did explain the radius, circumference and approximate length of each room, so if Nicolas dug in the precise spot above the cave, he would land right in the stone room without being noticed. Sure enough, as the mage dug through with Earth Spells, he fell into the exposed ground and landed in the Fist of Guthix room. His eyes widened as he saw that many others had already arrived and were battling ferociously for possession of the stones.

A warrior wearing Full Rune armor was running around, dodging arrows from his pursuer, a ranger who was firing rapidly. Luckily for the warrior, the ranger tripped over a stray rock and collapsed onto the ground, breaking his neck. The warrior walked across to Nicolas, and the mage could see him clutching a stone in his hand.

"Thanks mate, I really appreciate you helping~" before the warrior could finish his sentence, Nicolas cast a Claws of Guthix spell, which caused green claws to erupt from the ground and grab the warrior tightly. The warrior glared at Nicolas as the mage grabbed his stone from his weakened hands.

"You traitor!" the warrior spat. Nicolas retaliated by tightening the claws' grip; the warrior was almost crushed by the force of the spell. The mage walked over to the Fist of Guthix, ignoring the other fighters, and waited for the stone to charge completely. More people tried to take his stone by attacking him, but he just kept casting Claws of Guthix to bind them.

"I'll just wait 'till this stone here is charged, and then I'll be able to leave this place," Nicolas said to himself as he cast Claws of Guthix on a ranger who was shooting arrows at him. However, hordes of people were now ganging up and had targeted Nicolas, seeing that he was the strongest in the cave.

"Get him, guys!" a warrior roared, charging forward at Nicolas before being grabbed by a Claws of Guthix spell. The others dodged Nicolas' spells and were almost near the mage when Nicolas found that the stone had been charged fully. Nicolas used Claws of Guthix to grasp a loose stone on the top of the cave and used it to drag himself out of the battlefield. His pursuers cursed and screamed loudly, and the rangers fired barrages of arrows at him; luckily, he was able to dodge most of them.

After he got out of the cave, he glanced down through the hole that he had made earlier and saw that his pursuers had now split up and were fighting each other. The disorganized battle was steadily continuing, and Nicolas decided to stop watching the horror and gore.

"Well, it's time to get home and test out my new power," Nicolas said happily to himself, looking at the charged stone. As he turned around to leave, a Revenant Dragon materialized out of the air in front of him. Nicolas' eyes widened in shock.

"Die, puny kid," the dragon grunted, and let loose a blast of fire. Nicolas hurriedly cast Claws of Guthix on the ground. He knew that he was no match for a Revenant Dragon's immense power, so the least he could do was to flee. The impulse of the spell hitting the ground sent Nicolas flying into the air.

"AAAAARGH!" Nicolas screeched as the air tore through him. The mage clutched the stone and his Balance Book tightly as he flew over the Revenant Dragon like a stone being fired from a catapult. Nicolas was a good distance away from the Revenant before he saw the ground zooming up to meet him; the next thing he knew was total darkness.


	5. Imperial Guard Crisis

"Retreat, men!" Commander Joxcaite bellowed. Another boulder flew at him, but Joxcaite nimbly dodged and beckoned to his surviving men. Low-pitched growls of hatred filled the air.

Alexandros Buchelof blocked a boulder with his shield, and jumped over the body of a downed Imperial Guard soldier. He and the five remaining Imperial Guard soldiers quickly followed their commander down a narrow path, back down to the mountain-backed village of Burthorpe. As the seven Imperial Guard soldiers headed back to their large tent to regroup, Alexandros sighed in relief. He could still hear heavy boulders crashing onto the rocky area at the end of the narrow path, as if being thrown by powerful hands. Indeed, their opponent was powerful, and the seven of them were lucky to have survived such an assault. Commander Joxcaite stood at the tent flap, glancing down at his shoes while the others nursed their injuries. Alexandros walked over to his commander.

Joxcaite beckoned to Alexandros with one finger, and the two of them walked out of the tent to the Imperial Guard training area. Villagers of Burthorpe were standing in the training field, anxiously glancing over at the main tent. Joxcaite told the villagers to go home, and they obeyed, seeing that Joxcaite was a high-ranked soldier. Alexandros looked up at the night sky. It was clear, but what had happened just now made the night gloomy.

The Imperial Guard commander sat down on a stool next to a training dummy, and Alexandros stood in front of him. "Well, Buchelof, your performance was certainly impressive up there in the Death Plateau."

"Thanks, Commander." Alexandros replied, punching the dummy hard.

Joxcaite glanced at the sizeable dent in the dummy's stomach, and back at Alexandros' powerful fist. He continued, "Well, Buchelof, what had happened remains a secret, all right?"

Alexandros nodded. "It's safe with me, Commander. It wasn't your fault that the trolls defeated us up there."

Commander Joxcaite glanced down at the ground grimly. "As you know, we are supported only by Prince Anlaf and that's how we have managed to stay as a group for so long. If we continue to fail in our missions against the trolls, the Burthorpe governors might pressure Anlaf to stop funding us. The economy is already bad; they might think the money has gone to waste."

Just a few hours ago, Commander Joxcaite had led a special unit of fifteen Imperial Guard soldiers to assault the trolls in Death Plateau, high up in the Trollheim Mountains. The villagers were scared of a possible assault from the trolls nearest to the village, so Prince Anlaf had issued a command for the Guard to rid of the trolls. However, the unit had lost one soldier on their trek up to Death Plateau; the narrow mountain paths were treacherous, not to mention the hardness of getting over a steep rock slide. The soldier had collapsed when attempting to scale a rock slide, and had died from his injuries. That left fourteen soldiers plus Joxcaite to fight the five monstrous trolls on Death Plateau. The trolls, however, did not engage in direct combat; in fact, they had escaped into higher elevation after being attacked by the Imperial Guard. It was then that Joxcaite made his mistake; thinking that they had the element of surprise, he had ordered the unit to follow the trolls up and slay them. The trolls then hurled boulders at rapid speed from the higher elevation to crush the defenseless soldiers who were pursuing them. Only five men apart from Joxcaite and Alexandros had survived the trolls' attack; they had barely made it back to Burthorpe alive, and all of them were injured in some way. Alexandros had heard that the Ardougne Slayer Force had already disbanded due to lack of funds from the Ardougne government. The same thing could quickly happen to the Guard if nothing is done to redeem their failures.

"That's not all, Alexandros," Joxcaite continued, snapping Alexandros out of his thoughts. "The White Knights of Asgarnia are threatening to take over Burthorpe unless we pay them the "rent" fees. They claim that Burthorpe is part of their rule, so we must join in paying taxes. The economy is bad enough, how can we survive at this rate? Like I said, these are harsh times. But, the Knights have made a deal with the Burthorpe Government. If the Imperial Guard can successfully defeat the rising number of trolls on Death Plateau, they will lower their tax fees. With our current equipment and supplies, it's not possible, so I send you to get help from the Wizards' Tower."

Alexandros was surprised. He rubbed his eyes and opened them wide, staring at his commander. "Why the Wizards' Tower?"

Joxcaite smiled. "Ah, I have a plan in mind. We need the Wizards' help to cast a barrier around Death Plateau. If the trolls plan on using long-range combat, the wizards, naturally, can also fire long-range spells back at them. I send you to recruit several wizards to our aid. Additionally, seek out my old friend Rosheil and his apprentice Kondaz in the Tower; I'm sure they are more than willing to repay their debt to me."

Alexandros thought this over. If Joxcaite's plan is successful and the wizards help out enough, the trolls could be wiped out once and for all, which would save Burthorpe from losing tons of money. The journey to the Wizards Tower in Misthalin could take up to a week from here, but it's worth it when thinking about the economy.

There was only one problem. "How will you fare without me, Commander?"

"You do not need to worry about me, Alexandros Buchelof. As long as the trolls are eradicated from the Plateau forever, my fate does not concern me, personally."

Alexandros nodded and headed back to his tent for final preparations. "Then I shall head off now." He reached his tent, pulled the flap halfway open and glanced back at his Commander. Joxcaite was now punching the dummy hard and ferociously, seemly releasing his anger all at once at the dummy. Alexandros sighed as he heard the dummy crack, and he headed inside the tent to grab his backpack. _Now we've got to waste more money building new dummies…_

A few minutes later, Alexandros headed out of Burthorpe to thunderous applause. The fate of the village could rest on this man's journey. The villagers cheered and chanted Alexandros' name; most of his Imperial Guard comrades were at the village entrance, bidding him farewell. Alexandros walked out of the village gates and was a fair distance away when he glanced back one last time. He had only brought his Imperial Guard armor, his Dragon Battleaxe, money, and some food for the journey. He turned around and continued walking down the path to the druidic village of Taverley. _It may be months before I see my village again._

After reaching Taverley, he settled in at the newly-opened inn and checked into the most inexpensive room. The room was dirty and small; the bed was crooked and only a chair represented furniture. The walls were cracked and the room smelt of cat, but at least it was inexpensive. Alexandros sighed as he laid back on the bed, tired, thinking, _the economy's really bad. If I could only find out the cause of it…_

He had been asleep for a few hours before he awoke to the sound of the door being flung open. He quickly switched on the bright light and grabbed his Battleaxe from the floor. Two men dressed completely in dark black stood in front of him, clutching Rune Daggers. From the looks of them, they looked like highwaymen.

"What are you two miscreants doing here?" Alexandros demanded, leaving his bed and walking over to the two highwaymen.

"We're here to rob you, of course," they sneered. "We've got the patrons in the suites already, but even the inexpensive rooms sometimes hide valuable items, such as your battleaxe! Hand it over!"

Alexandros shook his head and got into combat stance. The thieves launched themselves forward, extending their daggers viciously. However, Alexandros calmly finished the two highwaymen off with two quick smashes of his Battleaxe. The thieves collapsed onto the ground, money flowing from their pockets. Alexandros stooped down, tied up the thieves and gathered up the money. He then headed out to the common room, towards the shivering innkeeper, who was tied to a chair behind his oak desk.

"Free me please, kind sir," the innkeeper pleaded, and Alexandros heeded him. He cut the ropes and the innkeeper stood up, stretching his arms.

"My dear innkeeper, take the money that the two thieves have stolen from the patrons staying in the suites; return them to their rightful owners," Alexandros ordered the innkeeper. The druid nodded and took the money. He walked over to where the suites are located at and looked back at Alexandros.

"My dear man, you are an Imperial Guard, are you not?"

"I am, but I might not be anymore. It depends on the outcome of my mission. And, don't forget to rid of the two highwaymen tied up in my room. Good night." With that, Alexandros saluted the innkeeper and headed out of the open door into the cool night air.

The innkeeper shook his head as the Imperial Guard left. "What a man, what a man…giving back money even in the midst of an economic crisis…"

Alexandros walked along the path towards the Taverley gates, determined to achieve his goal successfully. Who knows what kind of enemies will attack during the journey? Alexandros smiled and opened the gates of Taverley, and proceeded to walk out.


	6. His Journey Continues

The Slayer was still continuing his journey eastwards as he munched on a loaf of bread. Victoros had journeyed for a few days now ever since he had left the Ardougne Slayer Force hideout for the gleaming city of Falador, which is still wealthy in money. He had journeyed quite a bit already; the athletic Slayer was now on the path towards the fishing village of Catherby. His travels had brought him from Hemenster to Camelot, where the Knights of the Round Table had kindly replenished his decreasing supplies. He walked past the large flax field, where the flax pickers were still hard at work. The Ranging Guild was still buying flax from the pickers when Victoros had left Ardougne, presumably to fletch even more bows to sell for a profit. However, since the economy crisis, barely anyone could make a profit anymore. Tons of merchants were out of business in hours.

Victoros glanced over at the calm water and the row of Yew and Willow trees bordering the river. Lumberjacks continued to chop at the trees and Victoros could see several Unicorns dashing behind them playfully, bumping each other with their sharp horns. A squirrel scampered in front of Victoros, who hurled a small nut to it. The squirrel sniffed once, grabbed the nut tightly, and zoomed back up an Oak tree in the middle of the Willow trees. Victoros smiled slightly, turned a corner and followed the fence towards Catherby. He was halfway there when a cloaked man stepped out from behind the Candle Shop crates, wielding a Magic Bow in his hands. Victoros stopped in his tracks and quickly unsheathed his Saradomin Godsword.

"Halt!" the man called out, notching an arrow onto the bow. Victoros glanced at the man once, decided he wasn't much of a threat, and sheathed his heavy sword back. He held his hands high up in the air.

"What do you want?" Victoros asked.

"Well, well, well. Not many people travel alone these days, and certainly none with the wealth that you have." The man's large eyes observed Victoros closely. Victoros could see the man glance especially hard at his armor and weapons.

"You gonna try take my possessions by force, or what?" Victoros demanded, taking a step forward.

The man lowered his bow and extended his left hand. "My name's Joseph Dolciban. Where are you heading?"

"I don't see it's any of your business to know where I'm going, mere bandit," Victoros said huffily. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way." The Slayer glanced at Joseph one more time and continued walking forward. He came to the end of the fence before Joseph jumped in front of him.

"Let's not be hasty, mighty adventurer. I'm not a bandit; I'm merely dressed as one to scare unwelcome people away. My brother was slaughtered brutally by bandits a long time ago, and to this day, I still wish to avenge him," Joseph explained quietly.

"Ah, my sincere apologies, Joseph. My name is Victoros, and I am a Slayer from the Ardougne Slayer Force. Technically, I was, because my organization disbanded a few days ago due to lack of funds."

"Let me guess, oh mighty Slayer, you're heading towards Falador, are you not?"

"Correct. That's where all the wealth lies in, and if you wish to go with me, I guess I could use some company." Victoros extended a hand, and Joseph took it. The two shook hands formally.

"You haven't won the Fishing Contest in Hemenster, eh, Slayer?" Joseph asked.

"I'm guessing that you haven't either. I guess that means the Dwarven shortcut to Taverley is off-limits," Victoros said roughly. He glanced up to see that the sun was still shining brightly in the azure sky.

"Let's make our way past White Wolf Mountain before night falls, then, shall we? I've heard that the wolves there are quite vicious. Not to mention that blizzards frequently start up over there." Joseph said, swinging his bow back onto his back. He started to walk briskly forward, followed closely by Victoros.

"It's okay. I'm a Slayer; wolves are nothing compared to the dragons I've fought."

"Wow, you actually fought REAL dragons before? Why don't you tell me of your past experiences?"

"Sure thing, young Joseph. There's this one time when I trekked into the Wilderness…" Victoros proceeded to tell Joseph of his battle with Dracenios, until the two reached the base of the White Wolf Mountain. Joseph walked across the sandy Catherby beach, his boots treading softly on the fine sand, towards the grassy base of the mountain. The two nodded and started to walk up to higher elevation.

Victoros and Joseph continued their careful ascension of the towering White Wolf Mountain. Soon they had reached the icy area of the mountain, and they changed their footsteps to become more wary to the slippery ground. After Joseph almost slipped to his death for the third time, Victoros sighed and plopped onto the snow. The icy feeling the Slayer felt instantly propelled him back onto his feet.

"Why don't we take the longer route around instead of going through all those bloodthirsty wolves? Plus there's less ice down there."

"It's all right, Joseph, as long as you're careful, the ice is nothing to be concerned about. And like I said before, I can deal with wolves efficiently."

"Still, I'm not too confident about this route, but I shall do what you say."

"Good of you to think that way, Joseph." Victoros took a step forward and quickly slipped on the ice.

"Curses!" Victoros exclaimed as he collapsed. His body then continued sliding down the icy ledge which they had been carefully walking up on, and it was far too slippery for his smooth armor. He soon found himself dangling at the edge of the icy ledge, his gloved hands grasping a large rock firmly. Victoros tried not to look down at the sights beneath him, as they were at a tall height indeed. Joseph slowly walked back across the ledge towards Victoros, glancing at his feet the whole time.

"Give me your hand and try to pull me up!" Victoros ordered Joseph hurriedly. The archer crouched down and extended his hand, but stopped as he heard a loud howl somewhere near him.

"I can't you're too heavy!" Joseph protested.

"Just try, will you? Do it!" Joseph looked around once more, and extended his hand again.

Suddenly, the howl grew louder and a large White Wolf emerged from around the corner. It looked around with its acute eyes and set its sight on Joseph. However, as it pounced forward, it saw Victoros helplessly dangling over the edge, certainly representing an easier target. The wolf growled once and Joseph shivered in fear as he tried to steadily grab his bow. Victoros' left hand slipped and he was now dangling on only one hand.

"Pull me up, Joseph!" Victoros roared, but it was too late as the wolf pounced directly at him. Victoros' right hand lost its grip and he started to fall just as the wolf landed onto his back. The two slid over the side of the mountain until the two of them disappeared beneath the blizzard which had just begun. Joseph hurriedly left the icy ledge and rushed over to where Victoros lay at the bottom of the mountain, in a pile of snow. The wolf's body was nearby, impaled by a thick spike on the side of the mountain.

The blizzard was becoming overwhelming now, and Joseph cautiously treaded over to Victoros, being careful not to slip onto the ground. He leaned over and retrieved the Slayer's Godsword from its sheath, as well as taking several thousand coins from Victoros' backpack.

"Well, you won't be needing these anymore," Joseph sighed. He uttered a quick prayer over Victoros' downed body, and proceeded to climb up the mountain again, having all the money he needed to continue his journey eastwards. Joseph soon went out of sight again in the snow, leaving Victoros' body lying on the ground, under a thin layer of snow.

It was a few minutes after Joseph had disappeared from sight that Victoros regained conscious. He stood up numbly, brushing off the snow, and glanced around for any sign of Joseph. The blizzard had stopped by now, and luckily he did not freeze to death underneath his armor. It was then that he realized his sword was gone.

"Damn that kid," Victoros muttered as he limped towards the mountain again. This time, he won't slip down in the ice…he would have to be more careful from now on.


	7. The Socialists Make Their Move

It was always, always burning hot deep in the Karamja Volcano. The Tzhaar, dwelling in their domain underneath the blazing volcano, kept their city at a burning hot temperature, as they need the heat to survive. Forging weapons and armor from Obsidian and keeping many powerful beasts in their large caves deep in the city, the Tzhaar have always being a mysterious race. They were also the kind of people who keep secrets from outsiders. Their most terrible secret, though, was the Chest of Destiny, which can only be opened by a certain adventurer. Yet, an adventurer known as Raul Venkight found out about the Chest when he was visiting the city.

Raul proceeded to confront a Tzhaar-Ket patrolling the area near the city entrance. Putting one hand on his sword hilt, Raul stepped in front of the Tzhaar-Ket, blocking its path.

"Tzhaar, I know you keep the Chest here!" Raul insisted.

"Jalyt, it seems that you are no longer sane. Perhaps you would like a cool drink?" the Tzhaar-Ket replied calmly.

"Whatever! Show me the Chest right now!"

"Jalyt-Raul-Venkight, it is not your place to know." With that, the Tzhaar-Ket raised its Obsidian Maul and swung it in huge circles above its head. Instantly, five more Tzhaar-Ket guards lumbered over the gold rocks blocking the path to the bank area and charged towards Raul, who attempted to pull out his sword. However, the Tzhaar were too strong for him; they hurled him out of the city, where he landed onto solid ground. He lay there wincing in pain.

"This Jalyt knows too much! We should eradicate him!"

"Advice accepted."

Raul Venkight stood upright, facing the six Tzhaar-Ket guards standing in front of him in a straight line. He raised a hand. "Now just wait a moment, Tzhaar. You can't just kill me for~" Before Raul could finish his sentence, the Tzhaar-Ket guards pushed him into the burning lava. As Raul crashed into the lava pool, he screamed in agony and started to curse the guards with a string of words. The Tzhaar-Ket guards ignored the dying human and reentered the city. They did not notice the hooded stranger slinking into the entrance stealthily after them.

It was a fine day in Varrock. Allen Hawkins was in a good mood, ever since he got his house back. Sure, the economy was still bad, but at least he's got a place to live in again. He was walking along a path from the Grand Exchange back to his house, when a man with a dragon dagger at his belt emerged from a dark alleyway and stopped him. It was Takrinqer.

"So, Allen, you got the missing piece of the Shield of Arrav? Great job, mate! High five!" Takrinqer raised a hand and he and Allen slapped hands hard.

"You've got something else again, haven't you, Tak? You haven't changed much since I left Varrock one year ago, eh?"

"What do you expect? Anyway, you're correct. I managed to smuggle some prints from the Varrock Herald newspaper office. The managers aren't happy, but they'll need more than typing skills to arrest me." He extended a closed hand, and opened it to reveal several blue prints.

Allen swiped the blue prints from Takrinqer's hands and read through them thoroughly.

"The Chest of Destiny. Hidden deep within the Karamja Volcano, possibly in Tzhaar City. Whoever unlocks this learns their destiny, and gains instant power. If fallen in the wrong hands, could greatly benefit the evil."

"So, you want to try getting it? I'm rooting for you here, bud." Takrinqer grunted as he turned around to leave.

Allen smiled and stuffed the blue prints into his pocket. He started to leave, but he heard Takrinqer shout, "If you do get it and want to sell it, be sure to split the money with me fifty-fifty!"

Allen turned around and gave Takrinqer thumbs up. He then proceeded back to his house for final preparations. A quick Gnome Glider service could be useful. Unlike the humans, the gnomes actually lowered their price for Gnome Glider service, which had greatly attracted customers. Allen pulled out some coins from a drawer, and left his house.

**Tzhaar City **

Allen Hawkins entered the Tzhaar City after showing the guards that he was a true warrior.

"Man, it's burning hot in here! Seems like a microwave, in fact!" Allen exclaimed as he wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. He glanced around and saw that there were plenty of Tzhaar roaming the city, but only four or five humans around. It was the Tzhaar's city, after all. He asked a Tzhaar-Xil about Tzhaar Ket-Tok, and the Tzhaar-Xil pointed at a particularly burly Tzhaar-Ket. Allen approached him warily.

"Hello, I'm Allen Hawkins, the adventurer from Varrock. You're Ket-Tok, if I'm not mistaken."

"Ah yes, I've been expecting you, Hawkins. And please, call me Kettok instead of the breath in between the two syllables."

"Well, all right. I messaged you in advance."

"Really? I didn't receive your message, but since you're here, nothing's wrong. Come through this cave please, Allen Hawkins." Kettok turned and walked into a narrow cave to the side of the entrance. Allen followed quickly.

Soon Allen arrived to an open area full of bustling Tzhaar citizens. Tzhaar-Ket patrolled the corners of the area, prepared to attack any unwelcome intruder. Kettok led Allen to the edge of the area, where a small Tzhaar shrine was located at. Kettok nodded at the guards around the shrine, who moved out of the way.

"Welcome to our glorious city, Jalyt-Allen Hawkins. Our leader is currently engrossed in fixing some financial problems, but as the second-in command, it's my duty to greet you. You, if I'm not mistaken, are looking for the Chest of Destiny. Humans aren't normally allowed to come close to this sacred item, but you are an exception, anyway. I've got some sources which confirmed this, so please, go ahead." Kettok rumbled.

"Hmm, what sources, Kettok?"

"Never you mind, Jalyt. Just approach the Chest, if you please."

Allen nodded once, and strode forward until he faced the large, Obsidian-constructed chest in the middle of the shrine. Allen reached out a hand and touched the chest lock, and it magically opened at his touch. Breathing heavily, the adventurer looked inside.

An orb lay inside, emitting white, red and yellow beams from it. Allen grasped the orb and suddenly words began appearing in front of his eyes.

"Allen Hawkins, there will be a time when you shall sacrifice yourself for all the good of Gielinor. Additionally, beware Falador, Vaarku and the Serkotzul…" Allen read aloud.

Kettok rubbed his chin. "Well, Jalyt, it seems to be predicting your future! I know it includes a disturbing sentence, but do not fear. See what else the Chest has in store for you."

Allen reached into the chest and pulled out a stack of papers. The Chest instantly slammed shut and the lock latched itself in place, sealing itself once more. Allen quickly scanned through the papers and gave them to Kettok to consult.

"These are instructions for two kinds of powerful weapons. Our technicians are already making the prototype of the first weapon, is a kind of gun, or more technically, a launcher of destructive power. The second one is more like a Sword, but we'll need time to read the instructions before attempting to construct it."

"Wow, the gun looks like a deadly weapon. The Sword looks impressive, too," Allen commented as he glanced at the pictures included on the papers. Suddenly, he had a wild thought.

"You Tzhaar can't let the weapons land into the wrong hands! The evil will surely grow once they gain these weapons of mass destruction!"

"I know. That's why it'll remain a secret, providing that you, too, keep it silent."

"Of course I will, but…"

"Ah, you better change your mind about that." A voice sneered.

Allen gripped his Abyssal Whip and turned around. Kettok and the other Tzhaar-Ket guards spun around, each grabbing onto their Obsidian Mauls. They all saw a human wearing the Socialist uniform. But that wasn't the worst part. The man was wielding the prototype "gun", and it was pointed straight at Allen. Allen instantly went cold as he stared at the deadly weapon.

Raising a trembling finger, Allen cried out. "It's the Troublesomes!"

"You've got it all wrong, we're the Socialists!" the man shouted back angrily.

Kettok started forward, but Allen stopped him. "What do you want, Troublesome?"

The man sighed and looked up. "We have been stealthily manipulating you through our agents. They are the same agents who told and gave Takrinqer the blue prints of the Chest of Destiny. We have heard that the Serkotzul are seeking a weapon hidden within the Tzhaar, but because we cannot open the chest, there's nothing to do except to force the Tzhaar to construct the prototype weapon. Thanks to you, Hawkins, the instructions to enhance and use the weapons better than ever are revealed to the world!"

"What's your name, Troublesome?"

"My name's General Vaarku, the leader of the Socialist army. My second in command, Leodon Takeeves, is still quite angry at you. You're lucky he isn't here right now, or he would've ripped you personally to shreds by now."

"Get out of here right now!" Kettok roared. "This is a sacred place!"

"I know, I know, but not until I get my hands on those instructions and ALL your prototype models! I ain't leaving until I have those super weapons safely in my possession!"

"I bet my Abyssal Whip can kill you right now!" Allen snarled as he advanced. He stopped as Vaarku raised the launcher a bit higher.

"Ah, it's wise to freeze when someone points a weapon of destruction at you. Anyway, compared to this prototype launcher, your Whip is nothing but a child's toy! One blast can completely incinerate you to ashes!" Vaarku laughed.

"You used us, you Troublesome Socialists!" Kettok protested.

Vaarku laughed. "What do you think, Tzhaar fool? Of course we did! And stop calling my army by that stupid name, or I'll blow all of your heads off!" Vaarku whistled loudly and six Socialist soldiers emerged from the darkness. One of them clutched the banner of the Socialists while the other five held Rune 2-hander Swords. Their eyes burned with the passion to kill.

Kettok and the Tzhaar guards looked helpless. They turned to Allen. "Jalyt Allen Hawkins, we need your help to drive these guys from our city!" Kettok pleaded.

Allen nodded curtly. "I'll always help those in need. Well, almost always. Anyway, let's get this show on the road!"

He held his whip tight, and instantly lashed it out upwards. The whip latched itself on an obsidian hook on the ceiling, and Allen swung above the Socialist soldiers. He started to run sideways on the walls, using the whip for leverage. Vaarku looked absolutely stunned as Allen came running rapidly towards him. He then regained control of himself and started firing rapid blasts of lava from the launcher at Allen, who easily dodged every blast with nimble speed. Allen swung himself at the Socialists, and lashed out his feet, kicking two of the Soldiers onto the ground. The Tzhaar guards cheered and applauded.

"I'll get you for this, Hawkins!" General Vaarku shouted, and fired a quick blast of lava at the hook on the ceiling. The hook instantly melted, and Allen fell towards the ground. He landed on his feet, and continued running, towards the exit. General Vaarku fired more shots at him, but Allen managed to avoid each attack. He finally jumped out of the Tzhaar City entrance, with the Socialists following him tightly. Allen continued running, refusing to give up, until he stopped at the pool of lava in which Raul Venkight had perished in.

The Socialist soldiers approached him silently, and General Vaarku pointed his launcher directly at Allen's chest.

"I'll give you one last chance, Allen Hawkins. Join my army, or suffer your death right here! It'll be a hot one, though."

"No way, General. I refuse to join evil people like you."

"Well, your loss. Die now." General Vaarku pulled the trigger quickly, but he dropped the launcher suddenly. The blast of lava veered off into the ceiling, and Allen saw his savior: Kettok, who had punched Vaarku on the back. Vaarku stood up again, but Allen lashed out his whip and slammed Vaarku into the air. A Socialist soldier caught the general in time. More Tzhaar guards were emerging to join the fight, and the Socialists were being outnumbered.

"Curse you, Hawkins, I'll hunt you down, don't forget about it!" Vaarku roared as the Socialists climbed out of the volcano, retreating from the battle. Allen just laughed.

"Nice job, Allen Hawkins. I must add, do you require a companion on your journeys?" Kettok asked.

"Why sure, why do you want to accompany me though? I'm headed to Falador, by the way, because destiny calls."

"I'm sure of it. Well, consider Kettok as your official companion as of today, Allen Hawkins! By the way, thanks for saving my people from General Vaarku."

"All right, Kettok, you're in, it'll be nice to have a bodyguard of some kind," Allen smiled. Kettok bid farewell to the guards, and the pair left the volcano. They hurried to the port, and after going through customs, went on a ship bound for Port Sarim.

"Falador, here I come!" Allen yelled as the ship breezed through the sea at full speed.


	8. Another Tiring Day

The bartender put the beer glass that he was cleaning down, was about to pick up another one from the dirty stock, then stopped. He hurled the cleaning cloth back onto the counter and walked over to the only customer in the bar. The others had already left while the sun was still up, but this person had never left since arriving a few days ago. He claimed that he survived a disastrous wolf attack while journeying across White Wolf Mountain, and even fought off a gang of highwaymen who ambushed him.

"So, you've been here for two days already, but I still don't know your name. What is it?" the bartender asked curiously, plopping down on his chair behind the bar. The person looked up from the beer he was busy drinking and glanced briefly at the bartender.

No reply.

"I take it you're not from around these parts."

No reply.

"Well, do you want another beer?"

Still no reply.

The bartender sighed. "Well, I bet you could tell me a story a two. It's pretty boring nowadays with less customers in here due to the economy crash, but you certainly do look like the sort of person who has a story."

Joseph Dolciban rubbed his eyes and looked up from the Dwarven Stout that he was staring at. "You're right, I do."

"Ah really? Go on, tell me your story."

Joseph looked down, and then lifted his head. "All right then, but I'll tell you now, I really regret what I've done."

The bartender moved forward to hear Joseph's story…

Meanwhile, Zazime had just arrived back at Port Sarim, accompanied by his tutor Gerard Haelan. The two had come from the Void Knights' Outpost, where Zazime's parents were working in. To fully mark Zazime as an official adventurer, he had traveled to the Outpost for a special ceremony in which the Knights had blessed him with Guthixian spells. Gerard had watched all this proudly, standing right next to Zazime during the ceremony. It had been a good day for the kid; he had been reunited with his parents for the first time in almost a year, and he just became an adventurer, free to travel wherever he likes. As Zazime walked with Gerard to the ship reserved for them, calling good-byes to his parents, the tutor thought his student was really becoming a man now.

"Whereabouts now, Zazime?" Gerard asked. "I think I've taught you everything I know. You should be fine even if you travel by yourself."

"Wait," Zazime said quickly. "Let's just go to Falador for a quick celebration at their Rising Sun inn; I've heard that it's the best inn in all of Asgarnia. I haven't got time to properly thank you for all these years of training, Sir Haelan."

"There's no need to call me Sir, Zazime. Let's hurry up and head to Falador!"

**Bar near Taverley **

"All right, so you've managed to lose your companion on the mountain, now what?" the bartender asked.

Joseph slammed his hand on the bar heavily. "That wasn't my bloody fault!" he protested, breathing heavily.

The bartender raised an eyebrow, but he was wise enough not to anger Joseph any further. He knew the kid had gone through some hard times, and it was better to let him continue his story.

Joseph sat back in the bar pump and breathed deeply, closing his eyes. He then opened them wide and continued.

The young ranger had finally come to the base of the mountain after a long time of trekking. His back was splattered with cold snow, and his hands were numb from the temperature. His whole body shivered as he took a step forward, away from the snow, and onto the green grass. Gripping Victoros' Godsword tightly, he started limping away from the mountain towards the village of Taverley.

Joseph walked slowly, following the arching path towards the druidic village. He passed several wooden cottages, thinking about the horrible events he had just encountered. First, Victoros had fallen off the mountain by slipping, and is probably dead by now. Next, he had to fight his way through the tight blizzard and all those snow! Worse, just when he managed to climb his way down the mountain, a pack of five wolves had appeared out of nowhere and decided to make him their meal! They had pounced fiercely at his freezing body, extending razor sharp claws and opening their jaws to reveal gleaming white teeth of doom. Joseph, however, had managed to stay calm and without thinking, he had thrown Victoros' Godsword with all his might at the lead wolf. The wolf was impaled by the powerful sword, and as it died, the others skulked away, presumably scared by the Sword. Joseph had sighed in relief, and went to retrieve the Sword only to slip and fall again. The ranger sighed as he neared Taverley, seeing the druidic fountain in rising up into the air. He would never get over leaving Victoros' body to die under the pile of snow…

"Ah, such a sad story," the bartender commented. "Would you like another beer?"

Joseph nodded tiredly, and the bartender handed him a full beer glass. Joseph had drunk almost ten beers daily since his arrival at the inn, and the bartender guessed he was trying to drown out the bad memories. He started to leave the bar.

"Wait, there's more…" Joseph mumbled. The bartender sat back down.

He was in the middle of Taverley when a young girl stopped him. Joseph sat on a blue bench near the fountain, his head in his hands. The girl had plopped onto the bench next to him, and suddenly he was being accused.

"Are you a thief?"

Joseph looked up at the girl in surprise. "What the—no, of course not. I'm just wearing this bandit disguise to fool off unwelcome visitors, whoever they may be."

"Am I one of those unwelcome visitors?"

"Uh, I can't say. But, what were you thinking, suddenly sitting down next to me? Were you planning to assault me, perhaps in some inappropriate way?"

"Don't jump to _those _kinds of conclusions. Anyway, since you're not a thief, I guess I won't have to call the guards here. My name's Eliza."

"I'm Joseph Dolciban."

"What brings you here anyway, Joseph? If you're looking to trade then I'm afraid no one in this village can buy it off you. You know, lack of money and stuff."

"Just passing through, so don't worry."

"Well, what did you do before you came here?"

"None of yo~uh, nothing."

"You're a bad liar, your lip just twitched. Not very confident, eh, Joseph? Anyway, it seems that you might really be a rogue now. Might be a threat to my family, eh? Gonna commit murder and kill me right here?"

"What in the world do you want with me, Eliza? I'm just passing through, and so what if I'm not telling the whole truth! It's none of your business!"

"Ah but it is. You've done something quite bad, and you're probably regretting it right now. You're questioning your own hasty decisions, but that is expected of all vagabonds with no home~"

"Shut up!" Joseph lashed out a fist and punched Eliza on the shoulder, knocking her to the ground.

"Urgh!"

"I'm sorry, Eliza, are you all right?" Joseph exclaimed.

"Well, never you mind. You're not sorry anyways, I can tell from your hidden smile. Anyway, at least you're not one of those scrawny homeless weaklings; at least you defend yourself. There's more to you than meets the eye," Eliza muttered, glimpsing Victoros' Sword and the bow and quiver of arrows on Joseph's back.

"Well, I'll be going now. Probably won't see you again."

"Wait, where'd you get that sword? It looks quite nice."

Joseph opened his mouth, and then paused. "Well, I got it from a friend earlier today."

"No you didn't, that's one hundred percent a full-fledged lie," Eliza sneered.

"I don't care; like I said, I've got places to go, places to see. If you don't mind, I'm leaving!"

"Where are you going?"

"Falador, obviously."

"Where all the wealth is? Dream on, you'll never find a job there, so stop dreaming about Falador and all its wealth."

"And you're not?"

"Well, let me tell you, Dad's got a honest business selling herb-mixed potions, so I've got enough money to~"

"Watch out, Eliza!"

Before the girl could finish her sentence, a sword stabbed into the middle of her chest sharply. Blood instantly zoomed out of the wound, flowing steadily down Eliza's body. She yelped in pain and her body went weak; her shoulders slumped and her eyes lost their focus. Eliza stood there, impaled by the sword.

"Are you okay, Eliza? You will be!" Joseph shouted, hurrying to the girl's side.

"No I won't, because I'm going to die. Anyway, I wish you good luck, Joseph Dolciban, and please avenge my death by killing my killers." With that, Eliza died.

Joseph stared directly past Eliza's corpse and glared at her killer straight in the eye. It was a bandit, a real one, not just someone wearing a disguise. The man pulled out the sword which had claimed Eliza's life, and flipped back his long purple cape. His dark eyes narrowed as he glimpsed Victoros' sword in Joseph's sweaty hands.

"That sword shouldn't be with you, kid, now hand it over, unless you wish to die like this worthless girl," the bandit snarled, holding his sword out menacingly.

"Eliza may be annoying, and I've only known her for a few minutes. But it's not right to take away someone's life without asking!" Joseph hollered, and pulled his Magic Bow off his back. He latched an arrow to the bow and aimed it directly at the bandit's heart.

"Going to fight, eh, kid? Well, I'm going to have to take that precious sword of yours by force!" The bandit charged forward rapidly, swinging the sword high in tight circles. Joseph managed to keep his eyes on his enemy's nimble movements the whole time, and quickly released the arrow. His aim was true; the arrow buried itself in the bandit's chest just as he jumped in to slice Joseph's head off. The bandit groaned in pain as he crumpled onto the ground, dead.

"Well, I've avenged you, Eliza," Joseph said softly, glancing down at the girl's corpse sadly. He walked out of the fountain square, towards the village's gates.

"And that's when I headed here," Joseph said, finishing his story. The bartender clapped his hands.

"Quite a story you've got there!"

"Yes, and now I'm drinking myself to death to wash away those memories. I took away a life, left another to die and watch yet another die. It's not right, is it? One more beer, please." Joseph held out the empty beer glass, and the bartender took it, only to hurl it at the floor. The glass smashed into millions of pieces.

"That's all you're going to do? Keep drinking until you're insane?"

"Since you put it that way, yes."

"Well, I've got something to say to you. Go to Falador and make something of yourself. Leave the harsh times behind and get on with your life. You're still young, and unlike me, you've got a bright future. Think what your parents would say if they saw you here drinking ten beers a day."

Joseph thought about it. "You're right, mister. I've got to make myself something I can be proud of, in the name of Victoros and the Dolciban family. I've got to fight on."

With that, the archer stood up, paid for his stay at the inn, and left. The bartender looked at the door in which Joseph had left swinging wide open. He smiled slightly, and began cleaning the broken glass pieces with a dustpan.

Somewhere near, Zazime and Gerard were at the south entrance of Falador, arguing bitterly with the stubborn guards. Apparently no unwelcome outsiders could enter the city without proper identification!

"What's the meaning of this, guard?"

"Sorry, folks, but you have not been admitted in. Only those who are chosen can be admitted into our glorious city. I'm sorry, but it's the King's orders. Now kindly leave."

Gerard was about to fight some more, as he hands flew to his sword hilt, but Zazime stopped his tutor. The duo threw a dirty look at the guards, and headed away in the opposite direction…

"So, you're sure his appearance matched my description? A young man carrying a large Godsword and a Magic Bow?"

"Yes, sir. What a poor guy he was, leaving his friend for death and watching another die. He'd had to kill too, and now I'm almost out of stock because he drank up most of my beer supply."

"Thanks. I'll be going now, I've got to chase a certain bandit." The bartender reached out and took the money the man handed him, and watched him head out of the door.

"Oh yeah, he's heading to Falador!" the bartender called out loudly.

"Yes, I know." Victoros replied as he set off in pursuit of Joseph Dolciban.


	9. The Hoarding Knights

It was a fine, sunny day in the majestic city of Ardougne. Mathis Vendai walked along the stoned path, under a towering arch, and into the Grand Exchange: Ardougne Branch building. As soon as he entered, he joined the bustling crowd of buyers and sellers. The clerks at the counters were busy helping customers. Even in the midst of the economy crisis, merchants and all the regal people were still hard at work. The Ardougne Grand Exchange was much smaller than the main one in Varrock, but was full of people everyday. It was a good place to meet new friends and catch up on the latest news, besides selling and buying items. Mathis walked onto a long red carpet embroidered with the Grand Exchange symbol (a giant hand with money in it), and advanced straight up to one of the counters on the side wall.

All around him, people were yelling and screaming at the top of the voices, trying to get more sellers or buyers. _Why don't they use the automatic selling machine instead? _Mathis thought, glancing straight at the circular machine in the middle of the room. _Perhaps selling manually makes it quicker to find buyers. _

"Selling a full set of mithril armor!"

"Selling a Dragon Dagger for the lowest price!"

"I am buying either one hundred Lobsters or fifty Sharks in the Grand Exchange!"

"Trading full black gold armor for full adamant set with scimitar!"

"Lowest price for a Saradomin Page! Low, low, low, get yours now!"

The sounds of the Grand Exchange billowed loudly, and Mathis felt his ears tingling slightly eventually. He hurriedly made his way to the counter, and tapped a clerk on the shoulder for attention.

"Hey, Niles, can you open my collection box for me? I want to check my offers."

"Sure thing, Mathis. Haven't seen you 'round here for a week now. Type your PIN number in and I'll get this thing started"

"Yeah, well, I'm busy, you know." Mathis replied, typing in his four-digit PIN on the small touch screen embedded on the desk.

"I see. Well, here's your collection box; I see two of your offers were updated. Check 'em out."

Mathis glanced at the small screen in front of him. He could see that someone had bought his Yellow Party Hat for thirty thousand gold. He clicked a red button next to the screen and grabbed a large sack from the nearby stack, and held it beneath a chute below the desk. Instantly, Mathis heard a clicking noise and felt his bag grow heavier as the little gold pieces plopped in one by one. After the sack was filled to the top with thirty thousand gold, he tied it up securely and placed it inside his backpack, turning to look at the screen again.

"Ah, my dragonium platelegs have been bought, eh?" Mathis muttered. He had gotten those platelegs when he was out killing Steel Dragons in Brimhaven. But that was a long time ago, and he turned to Niles, who had just finished speaking with another customer.

"Hey, Niles, those dragonium platelegs that I put up for sale aren't this shady purple color, they're blood red!"

"Oh, that?" Niles answered. "With the whole economy thing, yeah, our manager for this section of the Grand Exchange has been cutting down on the runes used to power up these screens. Apparently the prices for runes have skyrocketed, and even runecrafters aren't willing to let go of their crafted runes so easily now. You'll just have to live with it."

"I see. The whole economy crisis has really spread, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, obviously. Everything's wrong; pensions and incomes are going down," Niles explained as he turned to help another customer, this time an old mage. Mathis sighed and pressed the button to start collecting his profits. The platelegs were once in the five hundred to six hundred million price range, but now it has fallen to only seventy thousand, which was still considered a profit nowadays for such armor. Mathis filled his sack up, and left the Exchange after saying a hurried farewell to Niles.

When Mathis got home, he was surprised at what he saw. His items, furniture, books, his possessions…they were all being lugged away by some men in armor! However, they did not look like typical Ardougne guards. Mathis narrowed his eyes, and charged forward at them.

"Hey, get out of my property! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Whatever. Keep quiet and let us do the work, all right? We didn't cross White Wolf Mountain for nothing!"

"White Wolf Mountain? That means you're either from Asgarnia or Misthalin! And from the looks of it, I expect you lot to be from Asgarnia," Mathis angrily yelled. He stepped forward, but one of the men stopped him with a burly hand.

"Make that Falador. We're from the castle itself, un, so don't underestimate us! We're 100% White Knight muscle!"

"So? Give me back my house and items! I don't give a damn whether you're Zamorak himself!'

"Quiet please. We're just following orders, look at your neighbors, they're also suffering the same thing. Good day." With that, the men left, walking down the street with all his belongings. Mathis glanced at the nearby row of houses, and was shocked to see more men at each of the properties. He turned sadly back to his former house, now stripped of any value. Why has this house-taking practice spread to Ardougne, all the way from Misthalin? Mathis was determined to find out.

"I'm gonna get to the bottom of this. I swear, I will!" Mathis roared brutally. His neighbors all heard him and cheered enthusiastically. Mathis checked his pockets and his bag. Inside the large bag were his Dragon Claws weapon, a water bottle, a map of Asgarnia, and a few pieces of food, as well as the sacks containing his money. Knowing that he'd brought everything he needed; he bowed slightly to the watching neighbors and ran at the direction of the Ardougne Grand Exchange building.

It was then that Mathis noticed several men clad in full White Knight armor, wielding two handed swords marching in an attacking formation straight at the Grand Exchange. Apparently they weren't going to leave Ardougne without any combat. Mathis quickened his pace and took out his Dragon Claws; what exactly was going on? Why were the Knights here anyway?

_There's got to be some other reason other than taking away people's properties, _Mathis thought bitterly as he watched the Knights break open the Exchange door and enter it. Suddenly, as he rushed to the broken door, he realized the reason the Knights had come to the Exchange building.

_They must be here to take away all the items put up for offers! _Mathis realized. _But why? For their own benefit? Most likely, there's something at work behind these Knights..._

Without any further ado, Mathis rushed into the building and prepared to battle.


	10. The Cave of Kinshra

Alexandros Buchelof awoke in a strange location. His surroundings were that of an immense cave, and huge stalagmites and stalactites were all around him. Alexandros groaned and tried moving, but he felt tight chains pulling sharply against his thin armor, forcing him to remain motionless. His boots brushed against the rough ground slightly, and he realized that he was hanging midair, not standing directly on the ground itself.

A strange liquid that was similar in appearance to swamp water had formed a large, circular pool in the center of the cave. Alexandros' vision was slightly distorted, but now it was coming rapidly back into focus, as was his memory. The Imperial Guard soldier had been captured by Black Knights when he was walking down a lonely path south of Draynor Village, with the Wizards' Tower just minutes away. He had managed to fight the two Knights who had ambushed him off, but when he arrived at the Tower, that was when he received a huge shock…

Alexandros Buchelof walked into the first floor of the Wizards' Tower. It was strangely eerie that no wizard was in sight. His sharp eyes, always on the lookout for any sign of danger, swiftly scanned the large room. The tidy study was empty, as well as the tables in the center of the room. Something was wrong. Wise wizards don't normally disappear without danger. That was when he realized it. He quickly spun around in time to see the door he had locked behind him burst open violently; a black knight wielding a Black 2 hander sword charged in. Without warning, the knight slashed down at Alex, who easily evaded the blow and cracked his enemy's skull with one smash of his powerful Dragon Battleaxe. He distinctly headed for the wooden staircase, and quickly ran up, just as five more knights entered the first floor.

"Hey, Roberto is dead!" Alexandros heard one of the knights yell in surprise.

"From the looks of it, he died from a blow to the skull," another one replied calmly. "I never knew wizards are using axes now."

Alexandros hurried his footsteps as he rushed up the endless staircase tiredly; he heard rapid steps behind him and shot a quick glance behind his shoulder, shuddering as he saw the five knights charging up after him. Alexandros finally stepped onto the second floor landing, and rushed into the first door he saw. He tightly locked it behind him and waited as he heard the knights arrive.

"Where's that warrior guy?"

"He probably went upstairs. And from the looks of his armor, he's a Burthorpe Imperial Guard!"

"An Imperial Guard? Egad, that must mean he's against Falador! We can't let that happen, can we?"

"All right, Bobby, shut up. Let's head upstairs, and we'll chop his head off when we find his sorry self hiding!" With that, the five knights thumped up the stairs.

Alexandros sat down on a comfortable plush chair and sighed in relief. However, a look of confusion crossed his face as he thought. _Why did the Black Knights mention enemies of Falador as bad? Can it be that they've actually become allies with the White Knights? Nah…not likely…_As Alex rose up from the chair, flexing his muscles, a voice surprised him, causing the soldier to jump almost a foot in the air.

"Who are you?" a blue-robed wizard demanded.

_Ah, it's just a wizard. _"Well, sir, my name's Alexandros Buchelof. You may call me Alex if you want. Anyway, I was sent here by my commander Joxcaite to request urgent help. We've been battling against our nemesis the Mountain Trolls for so long it's hard to keep track. Some magic users might be useful. Of course, you'll be redeemed for your help if you agree; I know the economy's bad, but we may be able to work out some kind of contract."

The wizard shook his head. "No chance."

"Why not?" Alex asked, confused. "Please, my job is at stake! If we don't manage to defeat the trolls, the Imperial Guard will be forced to disband, just like the Ardougne Slayer Force!"

"It's not that simple. We want to help; it's just that there's only a few of us remaining. Our leader, Head Wizard Rosheil, was captured by a few of those evil Black Knights several days ago; we're now short of runes due to the economic crisis, and we barely have any means of defense against the Kinshra now. I'm sorry, but so be it. The Guard would have to separate."

Alexandros punched an oak table in anger. The wizard placed a calm hand on his shaking shoulder. "Now, now, Alex, just calm down. We may be able to work out a deal if you rescue Rosheil from his prison. But that's not all…"

"All right, wizard, tell me what you require!"

"Try to get some of the death runes the black knights stole from us back. If we acquire them again, we may be able to fight off the Kinshra, and then we'd have enough time to assist your commander."

"Shouldn't be a problem. By the way, what's your name?"

"I'm Kondaz Gana."

"Well, Kondaz, I'll see what I can do." With that, Alexandros opened the door and headed out. It was after leaving the Tower that Alexandros suddenly remembered the black knights. He started to run, but he felt the flat side of a 2 hander sword crash onto his head, knocking him out. Alexandros could've easily defeated the knight who ambushed him, but he was too slow, lost in his own thoughts.

********************************************************

_What should I do now? I know I'm in a cave of some kind, but where is it? I hope Rosheil is here, too, so I can free him if possible, _Alexandros thought grimly. He tried using his strength to rip out the chains, but slumped back after failing several times. At least the knights didn't take his battleaxe, as it was still stuffed in its holder. _They're idiotic, _the Imperial Guard decided.

Kondaz sat back in his chair as another mage stepped up to him.

"Johan, I've got a bad feeling about this," Kondaz told the mage, who nodded in agreement to his superior. A tense expression appeared on Kondaz's tired face.

"What is it that you're feeling?"

"Something bad. It seems the Kinshra have a beast of power in their cave."

"What could it be?"

"No idea, but it might be a drag---no, no way. I just hope that Imperial Guard returns soon with good news," Kondaz finished, looking out of the wide window.

Back at the cave, Alexandros glanced around at the surroundings again. The cave was full of Black Knights, dressed in armor of pure black, with bloodstained 2 hander swords clasped in their heavily gloved hands. They were talking, joking, insulting, and conversing with each other. Suddenly, the voices grew hushed and the knights turned around to look at the other side of the cave. Alexandros strained his neck in an attempt to see, and gasped as he glimpsed a large blue shape emerging from the darkness. It was a monstrous dragon. It slowly edged closer, its clawed feet taking one step at a time, and soon it was only a few meters away, stopping abruptly. The beast had ruby-colored red eyes, and its widely opened mouth was full of jagged teeth, so sharp it made Alexandros think about the pain it'd cause sinking into his flesh. All of a sudden, the blue dragon let loose a large volley of fire which shot towards the imprisoned soldier, causing Alexandros to look away and shut his eyes in fear. The intense heat radiating from the flames touched Alexandros slightly, but the attack wasn't directed at him. It hit the wall next to him and a bloodcurdling scream rang out in the air. There was a stunned silence as the victim of the blast, now a completely scorched skeleton, dropped to the ground, lifeless. The knights began to cheer; and the dragon was led away by several burly knights, back into the darkness in which it came from.

"Oh my god," Alexandros muttered. "It seems the knights have trained their pet well."

"Ah, I'm afraid it'll be my turn soon," a frail voice spoke from the left. Alexandros turned around and noticed a wizard dressed in bloody robes chained up to the wall next to him for the first time.

"Who are you?" Alexandros asked.

"I'm a wizard, as you can probably tell from my robes. I used to be head wizard of the Wizard's Tower before my…ah…accident. Who are you, warrior?"

"I'm a soldier," Alexandros corrected. "But it's more or less the same thing. I'm an Imperial Guard member, sent to seek help from your tower."

"And you've been captured. It's all right, don't look so ashamed. A wizard of my caliber shouldn't be so easily drugged, either."

"I'm not laughing."

"I appreciate your understanding. How was my tower? Are the wizards all right when you left?"

"Well, yeah. They were all in good condition, but I actually only met one wizard face to face, his name was Kondaz. He was extremely worried about you."

"Kondaz, yes, yes. He was like a son to me; I'm glad he's okay."

"Those wizards miss you really much, you know."

"I expect. Anyway, we're currently in a cave somewhere to the west of Draynor Village. It's nicknamed, "The Black Hole."

"Well named, I think. Once you get captured, you won't easily escape."

"Yes, yes. The evil knights capture poor souls every day, and each day, one of them is incinerated by that dragon we saw earlier. I'm scheduled to be burned at the stake tomorrow."

"Can we escape in any way?"

"I'm afraid not. The Black Hole is hard to get out of; the knights are numerous and very vigilant, and of course there's that dragon. Although it's trained not to attack knights, it's very much welcome to burn outsiders at will. Just look at poor James; he tried to escape every day to no avail."

"Who's James?"

"A poor adventurer. He was burned today; the skeleton you saw."

"That's real bad luck. But I promise you, wizard, I'll find a way to escape, both you and me."

"That's very kind and brave of you, soldier. But as I said before, it's hard to escape. And may I ask you, please call me Rosheil."

"Wizard Rosheil, I am determined to escape. Don't worry, I'll find a way to leave this wretched place!"

"Well, good luck with your scheme, if you have one in mind. Just try to come back for me, all right?"

"Sure."

Alexandros looked up at the brown ceiling and watched the water drip into the filthy pool below from up high. The cave was quiet, and the black knights had left, apparently into their separate quarters. The Imperial Guard grinned and closed his eyes; it was time to think of a plan.

Meanwhile, a young mage stopped on the bridge leading towards the Wizards' Tower. He was clad in robes of lime green; in his left hand, he clutched a battered Guthix Book of Balance. But most interestingly of all was the bright glow emitting from a pocket in his robe; a solid, glowing stone was resting inside. Nicolas checked his map again.

"Wizards' Tower, just across the bridge. Check." As the mage continued strolling across the bridge, he did not notice a black knight steadily stalking him. What the knight didn't know, however, was the young mage's skill, hidden inside the completely charged rock.


	11. Escape and Reunion

The Imperial Guard soldier was having bad dreams. He was dreaming of being hit full force by a blue dragon's immense fire blast; his skin scorched, his brain screamed in agony, and he was getting reduced to a mere skeleton. It made him shudder in his sleep.

"Hey, you," a rough voice whispered.

Alexandros' eyes popped open in alarm. He glanced around the dim cave, lighted only by a few torches on the walls. Rosheil was fast asleep beside him; the wizard's weary face was frowning in his sleep. The voice called for him again, and Alex finally saw the person he was talking to. It was a black knight, standing right in front of his chained body.

"You, soldier," the knight spoke so softly that Alexandros had to arch his head forward, almost breaking his neck in the process. The Imperial Guard moved his hands in an attempt to get closer, but the chains swiftly pulled him back again.

"What?" Alexandros uttered. Was his execution date set early? If so, why was a knight being sent to kill him instead of that big blue dragon?

"Keep it down, will you? I'm not like my comrades; I don't like seeing people die brutally, nor do I enjoy murdering innocent humans."

"What's your name?"

"I'm Dagak, a member of the Kinshra Black Knights. Except, I don't like their ways. Mind you, I was forced into service of the Kinshra."

"Well Dagak, you still haven't explained about your difference from your bloodthirsty comrades." Alexandros murmured weakly. He glanced around hurriedly again; no knight other than Dagak was in sight. "By the way, my name's Alexandros Buchelof, an Imperial Guard member."

"My whole family was killed in the Misthalin-Morytania war in the past," Dagak murmured softly. "I was the only survivor; I knew that violence was a bad thing. As I grew up, I watched more and more people die brutally, to assassination, to wars, and eventually I was forced to join the Kinshra Division of Draynor. However, though, whenever I was sent out on a mission, I refuse to kill; I merely wound them to the point of unconsciousness. I try to make it look real, so I wouldn't get into trouble. I've been trying to free prisoners the others have captured, but so far I've only managed to free an adventurer named Allen Hawkins. And I didn't do it by myself either; I was aided by a powerful Tzhaar-Ket, apparently the adventurer's bodyguard. I saw the chance to free you when most of my comrades left, drunk and tired, so here I am."

"You're really going to try to set me free?" Alexandros asked, bewildered at the black knight's kindness.

"Yes, of course. I won't let others die when I can help it."

"You mean it, Dagak?"

"Yes."

"Ah, thank you. I can't believe there's still some Kinshra Black Knights in the world who are still merciful and kind, like you."

"Meh, I really hope more of the others can be like me, too."

"Are you able to set my friend, that wizard over there, free as well?"

"I might be, it depends on whether I can set you free first. I know he's scheduled to be burnt in the morning, so I've got to hurry then, right?"

"All right, let's do it. But, if they find out you freed me, they'll torture you and kill you!"

"That's a risk I'm willing to take, for the sake of saving others' lives when they can be saved."

"And what exactly is your plan, Dagak?"

"I'll remove your chains with this key I stole from the storage chamber, and escort you out of here. Hopefully I can trick the others by saying you're a new member of the Kinshra; the others are really stupid."

"I've noticed."

"All right, let's get going!"

Dagak slowly lumbered over to the entrance of the cave, his footsteps barely making any noise against the cave floor. He looked around sharply; there was no one in sight. Dagak then headed back to Alexandros and produced a dusty old key from a pocket, inserting it into a small lock on the chains. There was a little click, and the chains released themselves from Alexandros, falling onto the ground heavily. The soldier froze, but Dagak motioned for him to continue. The two of them quickly walked out of the cave as quietly as they could, and were a ways away, on a stony path, when two black knights emerged suddenly from behind a tall bush, yawning sleepily. Their Black Spears were lying on the ground.

"Damn, the guards," Dagak hissed. "I forgot…"

"Halt!" one of the knights demanded roughly. "Oh, it's only Dagak, continue on…"

"Wait a sec," the other knight yelled loudly. "Who is it that you're taking with you, Dagak?"

"Oh, it's just little Alex; I'm bringing him to the bank to get his cash out to buy armor from the Kinshra armory. In short, he's been recruited." Dagak hurriedly lied. Alexandros' body tensed, ready for combat.

"I see. However, I do recognize him, Dagak! You've freed a prisoner!"

The two knights grabbed their spears from the ground. "Get him!"

"Run!" Dagak urged Alexandros. "Don't worry about me; hurry on!"

"Are you sure?" Alexandros uttered in horror.

Dagak merely nodded as he turned back to face the two attacking knights. The lead knight stabbed forward with his spear, but Dagak dodged quickly and punched him on the head, knocking him facedown onto the ground. The knight groaned and went limp, presumably unconscious. Alexandros shook his head and ran up the path. There was a yell and a thud; Alexandros spun around in time to see the other knight drive his spear into Dagak's exposed chest, causing blood to spurt out. Dagak smiled at Alexandros one more time, and crumpled onto the ground, lifeless.

"Dagak!" Alexandros screeched. "I'll avenge you!" He waited for Dagak's killer to catch up to him, and used his Battleaxe to easily defeat the Black Knight. As the knight collapsed, his platebody completely crushed by the force of the axe, the soldier saw five more knights emerge from the cave, clutching Black Spears. They pointed at Alexandros and marched forward. Alexandros had no time to mourn Dagak's death as he ran forward, towards the direction of the Wizards' Tower. _I'll avenge you, Dagak, _Alexandros thought. _Also, I'll rescue you soon, Rosheil_.

**********************************************************

Victoros Paladine was angry, and was seeking revenge. That weak, cowardly traitor Joseph Dolciban had to be near, as did Victoros' precious Godsword. The Slayer's backpack felt lighter as almost all the gold pieces in it were taken by Joseph. The Slayer walked down the path leading to the Goblin Village briskly; he needed his Sword back, without it, he would be a disgrace to his former Slayer comrades. _If anything happens to that Sword, I'll rip that traitorous archer's head off personally,_ Victoros thought angrily as he walked down several stone steps, taking three at a time.

Joseph Dolciban sat near a windmill south of the Goblin Village, his backpack lying on the ground next to him, left wide open. Victoros' Godsword was resting on the bench beside him, as well as several bottles of Dwarven Stout. Those Goblins had a small, rusty inn, but at least their Dwarven Stout was as good as those in the other inns. However, the bottles were empty; he had drunk them all in less than five minutes. He looked tiredly into the large meadow sprawled in front of him.

Joseph walked forward a bit and picked up an empty bottle of wine which had been thrown in the meadow and tipped it upside down; there was absolutely nothing in it. Despite stating that he would make his family proud, he was still miserable. He had given into his love of all alcoholic drinks when he continuously remembered the problems he had caused. He sighed, clutched the empty bottle tightly, and walked back to the bench, where he sat down again. He had been here for over an hour now, continuously looking for more drink, yet regretting all of the past events the whole time. Looking at the bottles he had collected and drunk, Joseph thought he might be able to make a living as a bottle seller.

"Just my luck," Joseph groaned in a terribly slurred voice.

Not too far away a figure appeared. Only a few people had passed Joseph so far, and most of them were harmless travelers. All of them had kept their distance due to his highwayman-like clothing. Also, whenever someone came by, Joseph would grab Victoros' Godsword in his hand, wave it around wildly, and occasionally shout an insult just for the fun of it, terrifying them. Joseph looked at the figure with half-open eyes; it was getting closer and closer with every step. Suddenly, Joseph recognized the figure's face. It was Victoros.

"It's a ghost!" Joseph yelled, smashing the empty wine bottle on a nearby fence, cracking it. He picked up another bottle and hurled it at Victoros with all his might; the Slayer merely knocked it aside with a gentle thrust of his hand. Victoros stepped nearer, and Joseph pointed the broken wine bottle he had cracked earlier at the Slayer, who was sporting a very angry and pissed expression. Victoros pushed the wine bottle away, and pulled Joseph to his feet. The archer tried to reach for Victoros' Sword, but was too late as Victoros himself picked it up quickly.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, ghost?" Joseph roared, his voice still slurred.

"I think you'll find that Sword's mine, my friend!" Victoros sneered as he clutched his Saradomin Godsword tightly. Finally, his Sword was back!

Victoros glared at Joseph for a moment, then punched him hard in the stomach and hurled him against the fence. He clanged against the fence and slid to the ground, groaning and wincing in pain. Victoros then used his Godsword to completely break the empty bottles sitting on the bench into millions of pieces.

"Hey ghost; you just ruined my alcohol drink bottle collection!" Joseph grunted. Victoros stared hard at him until his jaw dropped open. The archer's face went dead white.

"How did you survive?" Joseph stammered, barely able to speak.

"No thanks to you, you dirty deserter, but luckily for me, I'm a fully trained Slayer, which means I was able to survive any type of bad condition," Victoros answered haughtily.

"I didn't mean to let you die, honest, I was scared~"

Joseph Dolciban stopped and leant over, his eyes wide. He stood up slowly until he was arched over the ground, staggering about on his weakened feet. He opened his mouth wider and vomited all over the once green grass.

"Now I'm certainly not a psychic, but it's clear that you've become a drunkard," Victoros spat. He disliked drunken alcoholics.

"I'm depressed; I've had a very bad time, probably worse than yours. But now you're back, you can help me, right?" Joseph exclaimed, still stammering. He rubbed his stomach absently as he stared at the Slayer.

"Why should I? I've got better things to do than waste my time with someone like you. Besides, you're a thief, and I especially dislike highwaymen. You said you wore that outfit only to disguise yourself, but actually, I think you're a true highwayman! Now leave me alone!" Victoros angrily shouted at the shocked Joseph.

"Please help me, Victorez!" Joseph uttered pleadingly.

"You can't even say my name properly, can you? What use would an alcoholic like you be to me?"

"I'll give you your money back if you help me."

"What makes you think I'm gonna negotiate for my own possessions?" Victoros bellowed in anger. He strode towards Joseph and reached into the archer's pockets, grabbing out fistfuls of his own money.

"You can't just assault me like that!" Joseph exclaimed.

"Of course I can, it's my own money," Victoros snapped. "You're no threat to me, but on the other hand, I'm in a position to threaten you, so open up your ears and listen! If you continue to follow me, I'll use this Sword to cut your head off. Is that clear?" Victoros held his gleaming Godsword high up above his head.

"Uh…I suppose so…" Joseph grumbled.

Victoros set off, and Joseph waited for the Slayer to be a fair distance away before staggering shakily after him.

"What the hell, get away from me!" Victoros yelled as he saw Joseph coming slowly.

*******************************************************

Alexandros finally arrived back at the Wizards' Tower. He opened the repaired front door and headed up the stairs until he arrived at Kondaz's study room. He opened the door and slouched in, collapsing on a chair, out of breath. The soldier had managed to outrun the lazy black knights with his agility, and they had headed back to their cave. Alexandros looked up and came face to face with Kondaz, Johan, and a stranger clad in green robes, clutching an ancient, battered Book of Balance.

"Who's this stranger here?" the stranger asked in a friendly tone.

"He's on our side, and he's an Imperial Guard, so show some respect!" Kondaz snapped. He turned back to Alexandros.

"I sensed you've managed to escape from the Black Knights. You haven't been able to save Rosheil, but at least you now know where their cave is. Go on, tell us."

"All right…" Alexandros grumbled as he pushed himself upright. The stranger walked close to him and smiled.

"You're an Imperial Guard eh? I've got some good and bad news for you, though," the stranger stated. He extended a hand before saying, "I'm Nicolas!"

*********************************************************

"Stop following me, brat!" Victoros shouted desperately.

He lifted his Sword and pointed it menacingly at Joseph, who continued to stagger forwards.

"Go on, Victoros, kill me," Joseph grunted. "I said your name right, correct?"

"Sure you did, but I'm going to kill you anyway. Just think of the pain you'll get, fool," Victoros snapped edgily.

"You won't kill a person, would you? Not a great Slayer like you." The archer screeched.

"Damn right I wouldn't, but if the consequences call for an execution…" the Slayer raised his Sword a bit higher.

"If you let me accompany you I'll fix all my past wrongdoings. Seriously, I will!" Joseph exclaimed loudly. His speech was no longer slurred.

"Damn Joseph Dolciban, what a determined lad you are. Tell me why you wish to accompany a Slayer of my caliber so badly."

"I felt seriously bad because I thought I caused your death, and I'd been a thief who took your possessions just because it felt good! Also, when I got to Taverley I met this young woman, her name was Eliza, and she got murdered right in front of my eyes. I failed to save her in time, but I managed to avenge her by killing her murderer right there."

"And this is why you felt bad?"

"Yes, correct. I left a life to die, watched another die, and killed someone else! It's not fair!" Joseph yelled.

"Calm down, lad. I had no idea what you've been through; but I want you to start by not stealing anymore. Next time I might not be so merciful."

"Does that mean I can accompany you on your journeys?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Victoros groaned as he watched Joseph dance in joy.

"Thank you, great Victoros, I'm really glad," Joseph cheered, still dancing. "I'll be EXTREMELY loyal to you from now on, don't worry!"

"Right then, let's get going, shall we? Falador's our destination, the quicker we get to there, the happier I'll be," Victoros explained. Joseph nodded, and he followed the Slayer as they walked south towards the majestic walled city of Falador.

**********************************************************

"What the hell is wrong with these Faladorian guards…" Zazime snarled, pissed off. The guards had refused him access to the city once again. Zazime returned back to the old cottage that Gerard had rented for them in Port Sarim, throwing dirty looks back at the laughing guards as he walked.

"We'll get to the bottom of this, right, Gerard?"

"Hopefully, yes. Maybe this whole economy thing is coming from Falador itself…" Gerard mused as he glanced at Falador in the distance.

"Right, Zazime, we'll get to the bottom of this, like you said. We will." Gerard stood up, and opened the door. The two headed out towards the direction of Falador.


	12. Searching for a Plan

A man dressed in loose, black clothing ran steadily across the road. He pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment and read it through once before stuffing it back into his pocket. Pulling out a sword whose blade is covered completely in some sort of black ink, the man ran forward again. "Note to self: Crantus, read instructions more carefully next time," the man known as Crantus muttered.

"Your mission, Volstagh, is to assassinate the people matching these descriptions."

Volstagh Abumei was a feared bounty hunter. He had recently joined the Serkotzul, but instead of carrying out missions, he still bounty hunted people instead, to collect the gold due to him. He glanced up at the hooded Serkotzul leader, and nodded. Volstagh was always prepared for any kind of mission, and he wore thick Black Dragonhide armor under his Serkotzul robes. Also, he always hid a few throwing knives and darts dipped with super poison in his robe sleeves; you never know when you might need one. He stood up, and the Serkotzul leader turned to address another member.

"Zaseke, I know you've already got a spy in the Socialist organization, but I fear that's not enough. I think you need to show them that we still exist. Why don't you pretend to join them, and assassinate General Vaarku at the last second?"

"Yes, leader," Zaseke said in an expressionless voice. "My Dragon Halberd is aching to be dipped with blood." The leader smiled slightly. Zaseke was his best subordinate; swift, efficient, and obedient. Perhaps he should take over as his second in command instead of Sliske. At any rate, the leader waved a hand to signal the dismissal of the meeting, and Zaseke and Volstagh walked out of a door to the rear, prepared to carry out their missions. Zaseke grinned; the Socialists won't know what hit them.

***********************************************************

**Varrock**

"What are you doing, Darko?" Takrinqer hissed at his comrade.

"Just sit back and watch the show," Darko snapped, grinning.

"What the hell~"

At that moment, Darko signaled to Takrinqer and the two of them leapt back just as a huge explosion engulfed Varrock East Bank.

"Just trying out an explosive potion I picked up somewhere. Now let's dive in and get their cash!" Darko laughed.

Money started raining down in pools from the secure vault it was kept in. The two men started grabbing and stuffing the money into huge sacks they carried. But then, Takrinqer pointed at ten guards charging towards them, waving swords wildly. Darko did not notice as he was still stuffing money into his pocket; his sack was completely full to the top already.

"Freeze, thieves!"

"Holy crap, let's get out of here, mate!" Darko screeched.

They ran as fast as they could into the night, chased closely by the pursuing guards.

**24 Hours Later**

"Darko, that stupid stunt of yours earned us the front page on the Varrock Herald! The manager was already pissed at me, no wonder he gave us the honor…" Takrinqer bellowed.

"Wow really? There's even a photograph! Ain't I handsome, Tak?"

"Whatever. The fact is, all of Misthalin is looking for us. We've got to get out of this hellhole Varrock now!"

"All right, man, don't get yourself into an uproar. We may even need to leave the kingdom eventually, even with our stealthy hiding skills."

"You're right; I think Asgarnia would be a good choice, no? With all the cash they have even in the midst of this economy crisis. I bet that place is a thieves' haven now," Takrinqer moaned.

"It's gonna be risky, but let's do it. With the financial breakdown, they probably can't afford to keep us in prison even if they capture us."

"I doubt they can capture us, but we'd better keep our profiles low. Our heads down. Blend in with no rash actions."

"Got your supplies?"

"Yep."

Darko nodded, and put up his black facemask, completely covering his face. Takrinqer pulled up his long hood over his head. The two gave each other thumbs up, slung their backpacks over their shoulders, and they headed out of their hideout in a dark alley, towards Varrock central.

***********************************************************

After walking for a couple of days, the two had arrived at Edgeville. They followed the riverbank south, having decided to take the longer detour around the small village. They stood on the south of Edgeville after a while, panting. It was then that Takrinqer noticed something strange. He turned to his companion, who was busy fishing in the river with a long rod.

"Darko! Where is everybody? The village is strangely deserted!" Takrinqer gasped, suddenly nervous.

"Maybe they've decided to go to Falador! Those cheapos, the friggin' hobos, the pathetic noobs~" Darko then started to swear, until Takrinqer shushed him.

"The buildings are wrecked. There has been an attack, I'm sure of it. We missed the battle, thankfully."

"Aw, we missed violence? At least it's better than fishing all day!" Darko groaned, as he pulled a salmon from the end of his fishing line.

"You were hyper and annoying in school, remember, you got detentions every day for beating up others."

"Naturally. School was crap; I'd rather fight all day."

"Well there was one guy you couldn't beat up no matter what, his name was Victoros or something, I forget."

"Damn, don't remind me of him. He got me expelled by tattling on the teacher! If I were to meet him again…" Darko flexed his muscles as he slammed another salmon into a red bucket.

Just then, a man dressed in black emerged from a wrecked building and headed over to the duo's camp.

"Excuse me, sirs, but would you two be Takrinqer Gaiko and Darko Alcindor?"

"Why yes, but why's my name read out second?" Darko snarled suspiciously.

"Shut up, Darko, you're annoying," Takrinqer ordered. "Continue, sir," he said to the man.

"I've been sent to find you two, by your friend."

"Woah, woah, slow down. Which friend? And, why has Edgeville turned into a no-mans land?"

"Haven't you heard? The Socialists stormed Edgeville and completely destroyed it. The men either died fighting or were recruited forcefully into the Socialists army, and the others…well, let's not talk about that. Anyway, according to my sources, they were looking for you two."

"What the bloody hell?" Darko shouted. "No way, you must be a spy!"

"No, I'm not. The Socialists' leader, General Vaarku, was looking for an adventurer known as Allen Hawkins. He knew that you two are friends of Hawkins, so he tried to find you in order to gain information about Allen."

"Thank goodness we arrived late, then. We don't know where Allen went, but I know he's heading for Falador."

"Who are you? You haven't introduced yourself, or the 'friend' you said who sent you."

"My name is Crantus Typan. I'm a fully-fledged adventurer, and the friend who sent me was Allen himself. I've actually known him since seventh grade, you know."

"What? And he never told us? My apologies, Crantus, but where is Allen right now? I'd like to see him again."

"Ah, follow me and you'll see. We're going to Falador," Crantus said broadly. The two thieves nodded, gathered up their possessions, and followed Crantus away from Edgeville.

One day later, the three had arrived at the gates of Falador. They had hidden and ran the whole way, so naturally they were all tired and worn out. Crantus was the only one standing; the two others were slumped on the ground, breathing heavily.

"We'll have to find someone to smuggle as into Falador, I'm afraid." Crantus announced.

"What do you mean?" Takrinqer asked.

"If you read the newspapers, which I doubt you do, you would know that the Misthalin, Kandarin, and Asgarnia police forces are hunting for you as highly-ranked criminals. Plus, there's been a new law passed recently in Falador. Only people admitted by the council may enter, they say it's for security reasons, but I expect that's all bullshit. The population of the city is growing steadily, mainly because the economic plague hasn't affected Falador yet."

"I expect it will, soon," Darko sneered. "We'll just have to find someone to smuggle us in."

Just then, two figures started walking towards them from the north. On closer inspection, it was Allen and a burly Tzhaar-Ket.

"Allen!"

"Long time no see, guys! And I see you've met Crantus! This powerful Tzhaar here is Kettok."

"With you guys here, we may be able to sneak into Ardougne. That's why I sent for you; me, Crantus and Kettok kept getting chucked out."

"Well dude, sorry to disappoint, but we're heavily wanted criminals now. Right, Tak?"

"He's right, Allen." Takrinqer confirmed grimly.

"Whatever. You guys can still help."

Suddenly, Kettok tensed and slammed all four humans into a large bush with one smack of his arm. He dived in after them.

"What the hell, Kettok!" Darko growled.

"Shush, Jalyt! Our enemies are here, eh, Jalyt Allen?"

"Indeed," Allen mumbled, rubbing his sore elbow which had hit the ground.

They all peered out, and saw an army marching past. The banners some of the soldiers held confirmed it. They were no doubt the Socialists.

"Ah, the Socialists," Crantus noted. "They're here at last."

"Nope, they're the Troublesomes!" Takrinqer snapped. "That's their official name!"

"Jalyt, please be quiet," Kettok whispered, edging in and squeezing Darko, who was hiding next to the Tzhaar.

"Who's that?" Crantus asked quietly, pointing at the man standing in front of the army.

"It's General Vaarku," Allen moaned. "And look, Captain Leodon is next to him. They both want me dead."

General Vaarku stopped in his tracks and paused. He waved a hand high up in the air and the army subsequently stopped. The soldiers all saluted their general.

"Takrinqer and Darko are wanted criminals. I know we failed to find them at Edgeville; it seems we arrived too early. I was impatient, I know. Anyway, they are connected to the man known as Allen Hawkins. They were last sighted somewhere in Misthalin, but I expect they're near Falador now. Also, if you see Crantus Typan or a Tzhaar-Ket known as Kettok, be sure to capture them as well; they're friends of Hawkins. This is a man-hunt men, we can't afford to fail if we want to continue on to dominate Falador!" The General paused again.

"If you see Hawkins, shoot on sight. Otherwise, bring the others alive to General Vaarku. Is that understood, men?" Captain Leodon barked.

"Yes sirs!" the soldiers all said in monotone. They saluted again, and followed General Vaarku forward. The army was heading steadily towards the western Falador gate.

"Time for a new plan team, we can't make hasty moves with these guys around," Allen commanded dementedly.

"There are five of us, and the Troublesomes have more than a thousand. They've got more units coming, according to reports," Crantus explained.

"Damn it," Darko swore angrily. "I'm pissed!"

"We'll get into Falador no matter what Jalyt; if we don't, we'll die trying!" Kettok howled, beating his chest.

"You're right, Kettok," Allen agreed, his face brightening. "We can't fail if we want to defeat the Troublesomes!" With that, the five stepped out from their hiding spots behind the bushes and stared up at the skies, thinking of tomorrow.


	13. Cavern Assault

"To rescue Head Wizard Rosheil, we'll need to get past the blue dragon, not to mention tons of Black Knights as well." Kondaz muttered softly.

"I realize that, Kondaz, but it's all right. If we go together, we can crush those knights and hopefully avoid the dragons," Alexandros offered.

"Wait, soldier, don't you want to hear the good and bad news about your organization? You waved me off when I first asked you about that," Nicolas reminded Alexandros, who nodded this time. He braced himself for the news, and even the wizards themselves gathered around Nicolas, waiting to hear the young mage's words.

"First, the bad news, so get ready. The Imperial Guards are dead."

Nicolas' words washed like a cold storm over Alexandros, who gasped in horror. The wizards were silent as they watched an expression of bewilderment stretch itself across Alexandros' face.

"What happened?" Alexandros demanded to know.

"Well, according to what I heard, a White Knight came from Falador and ordered Burthorpe's monarchy to send what's left of the Guards up to fight the trolls again. The Knight explained that Falador feared the trolls might eventually get past Burthorpe and start attacking the rest of Asgarnia, too. The Guard had no choice but to follow orders, and subsequently, the Guard were completely wiped out despite equipped with powerful weapons brought to them by the Knight."

"My mission is pointless now, then," Alexandros uttered. "What use am me now, without a job? My comrades are dead, all because of a stupid order from Falador. Maybe Falador sent the Guard to their deaths on purpose!"

"That's exactly what I had in mind, soldier. Falador always wanted Burthorpe for themselves, without the Guard to defend the village; it'll fall easily into the White Knights' rule. Quite cunning, I must say. However, the good news is that one of the Guards survived; his name was Joxcaite, apparently he was the Commander."

"Commander Joxcaite survived? Yes!" Alexandros cheered.

"So, what'll you do now, soldier?" Kondaz demanded. "Will you continue to help us, or head back to protect your village?"

"I know it's a hard decision, but I've decided to stay. I'll help you rid of the Knights and save Rosheil, and then hopefully meet up with my Commander and find out what's going on at Falador. There's still the Warrior's Guild near Burthorpe to protect the village; their leader Harrallak is a tough man to reason with."

"All right," Kondaz looked relieved. "What will we do now? We can't launch a direct assault because of our scarce runes and lack of anti-dragon armor."

"I've got a plan for that, my friends," Nicolas announced triumphantly. "The answer is Lance Jaszas! He is one of the Slayers of the recently disbanded Ardougne Slayer Force, and from what I heard; he's currently near Draynor Village. I know Victoros Paladine, the best of the Slayers, might be a better choice, but I've got no idea where he is currently. So our best bet would be to find Lance and have him slay the dragon while we rescue Rosheil. Then you'll give me those Soul Runes you promised, right?" The young mage turned to face Kondaz, who nodded slowly.

With that, Nicolas and Alexandros left the Tower to find Lance. There were only a few hours before Rosheil was due to be executed by the dragon's fiery breath.

*************************************************************

Volstagh Abumei took aim, and instantly fired five rune knives at his target with deadly accuracy. However, his would-be victim was more nimble than he thought, easily reacting to the attack and diving to the side to dodge the potentially fatal knives.

_Damn, zero-for-two. _Volstagh had already missed his target two times already. The bounty hunter reached into his supply pack and pulled out twenty rune knives, with two between each finger. He stood up behind the bush he was hiding behind, and jumped up high, firing the knives one by one with deadly ease. The knives zoomed at the target, who dodged all of them easily, twisting, turning, jumping and running nimbly. The last one almost got his throat, but he spun around at the last second, the knife only scratching his shoulder slightly. Volstagh slammed his fist on his knees in anger. This guy was certainly tough to hit.

"You call yourself a bounty hunter?" the man mocked.

"Shut up, Lance Jaszas!" Volstagh growled. "I'll get your throat before long!"

Lance unsheathed his Dragon Longsword and turned to glare at Volstagh. The bounty hunter suddenly jumped backwards.

"It's time to retreat, but be warned, Lance Jaszas, I will get you soon," Volstagh whispered in a soft voice. The softer the bounty hunter speaks, the more deadly he means. The bounty hunter was quite shocked at his target's speed, but there's still a week before he is due to collect the bounty. _Plenty of time, _Volstagh decided. He gave Lance a dirty look and charged away into the bushes, disappearing from sight.

Lance sighed and slid the Longsword back into its ruby-red sheath. This was the third time in three days that Volstagh had ambushed him, and he had failed every time. Perhaps he'll never stop until Lance gives himself in, but that wasn't possible. No way was he going to die at the hands of a greedy bounty hunter like Volstagh. The warrior reached over for his heavy brown backpack, and slung it over his shoulder as he followed the path south.

_How I miss the days in the warm hideout, _Lance thought sadly. _Days of journeying into the Wilderness with my comrades…fighting to repel the evil of Gielinor. Perhaps a time will arise when my services will be needed again. _The former Ardougne Slayer Force Slayer sighed and continued on. _I might even encounter Dirk, Chonalin, Victoros, and the rest of the Slayers again…_

Lance walked into the Market Square of Draynor Village and reached into his backpack to grab out a few gold coins. He handed them to the bakery stall owner, who gave him two large cakes. Everything had either gone up or down since the economy crisis had begun, and cakes had shot rapidly up in price. One cake was worth 200GP now, and Lance had just spent 400GP on two full-sized cakes. The Slayer quickly devoured the first cake, and was just starting to eat the second one when the bakery stall owner, a man with brown hair, stopped him.

"You look famished. Are you all right?" the owner asked, concerned.

"It's all right, I just had a rough day," Lance replied. "In short, I was attacked by a bounty hunter, but I managed to survive."

"Bounty hunters...people would do anything to gain money these days," the owner stated crossly. "Even killing people for money!"

"Yeah, I know. I was a Slayer of the Ardougne Slayer Force, but due to the economy crisis, we were forced to disband. I'm now an adventurer, letting my travels write out my life."

"Well, here you go, it's a big loss to me, but here's a free slice of cake." The owner handed him a delicious slice of cake on a paper plate, and Lance accepted it gratefully. He bid farewell to the bakery stall owner and was heading out of Draynor Village when suddenly a young mage, accompanied by an Imperial Guard soldier, stopped him.

"What do you fine people want?" Lance asked the two in front of him.

"My name is Alexandros Buchelof, and this young mage here is called Nicolas. We need your help, mighty Slayer."

"How did you know I was a Slayer?"

"We overheard your conversation with the bakery stall owner. Please, great Slayer, assist us, this is very urgent!"

"Fine, tell me what it is first, though. I require the details."

Alexandros leaned forward and began to speak.

"We need you to help slay a blue dragon…"

Victoros Paladine and Joseph Dolciban stepped into Draynor Village. They had been kicked out from Falador for unknown reasons, and now they were thinking of a plan to get in.

It was there that Victoros noticed something. A circular mark had been carved into a nearby oak tree, with a capital L in the middle. It was the sign of Lance Jaszas, his former comrade! He always left his symbol wherever he went, because he was too proud, but Victoros had always lectured him that this would mean enemies can track him down easier.

"Wait here, Joseph, rent a room or two, I'll be back shortly," Victoros ordered Joseph, handing him a pouch full of money.

"You're not gonna ditch me, are you?"

"I'm a Slayer, I'll keep my word. See you in a few hours."

Victoros rushed off from Draynor, strapping on his armor along the way. He followed the various marks, determined to find Lance again.

*********************************************************

Kondaz was looking out the window, in the direction of the Black Hole cave. He felt anger flowing through him; he would love to death blast every single Knights in Gielinor to death.

"Am I wrong?" Kondaz asked.

"What do you mean?" Johan answered, as he entered the room.

"I mean am I wrong to doubt the soldier and the boy Nicolas?"

"Well doubt is to be expected, but remember what he is capable of. He had enough brainpower to think up that escape strategy by hiding us under the ground hidden away beneath here."

"Anyone could think of that." Kondaz argued.

"That's not my point; I'm saying he works well in a crisis. Also, did you not see the Book of Balance he wields and that glowing stone in his pocket?"

"All right. But what good would this Lance be? His name will be more of a problem to the Knights than his strength. Even if he is a Slayer, can he really fight off tens of the Kinshra at once?"

"If you are so concerned, why did you not offer to travel with Alexandros and Nicolas?"

"Because I was scared. I'm in no shape to travel, and I'm no good against big brutes or anything in fact, even a young impling could take me on when I don't have my runes with me."

"Talking of runes, why don't we mine our own runes? We have teleports, do we not?"

"For goodness sake Johan, think about it! As soon as the economy swung out of control everyone began fishing, woodcutting and mining. Where did that get us? Barely any fish, trees and ore, all of it was used. Then the runecrafters put such a strain on the Essence Mountains that they lost their quality. Our crafters came back with merely airs and mind runes for days!"

"It was just a thought, and surely we can fix it?"

"Well we're the only people who know how, but we can't actually get anywhere with a big part of the Kinshra population right on our doorstep!"

Kondaz resumed to looking out the window, and Johan walked out of the room, slowly closing the door behind him.

"Let's do this, Alex," Nicolas commanded as Lance followed the two of them. Alexandros nodded and led them to the entrance of the Black Hole cave.

Inside the cave itself, Rosheil was still there. His body was incredibly numb and sore, having been chained to the wall for days, and every morning a new victim would be burnt to a pile of charred bones. He was also incredibly hungry; the knights fed him just a loaf of bread and cup of water every day, enough to keep him alive, however. Every morning Rosheil dreaded where the dragon would go, and it always seemed to breathe its blast of fire towards him, only to quickly change its way and kill another poor soul. It was that time of the day again, and the dragon was pulled out of its lair. Its large blue scales shimmered in the light, and its red eyes burned right into Rosheil's soul as he looked in terror at it, feeling his hear pounding rapidly against his chest.

_Where the hell is Alexandros, _Rosheil thought as he watched the dragon advance slowly, tons of knights cheering around its massive body.

"Today, my friends, this wizard here will be burnt to a crisp," a black knight, who was pulling the dragon by its chain, said loudly. The others cheered and jeered. Rosheil thought he was going to faint right there.

"Five, four, three, two, one," the same black knight chanted, and as soon as his voice trailed off, the dragon let loose a huge blast of fire, shooting straight at Rosheil.

"Good-bye, Alexandros, Kondaz, and the rest of my loyal wizards," Rosheil murmured sadly as he watched the fire near him with every second. Suddenly, a strong looking warrior jumped in front of his chained body and deflected the flames with one swing of his Dragon Longsword.

"Sorry to disappoint, my friends, but Rosheil here is going to live!" Lance bellowed dominantly at the knights, who cowered in fear.

"Attack!" a black knight ordered the blue dragon as he pulled off the chains restricting its movements. Nicolas quickly shot a Claws of Guthix spell at the knight, who was instantly binded. Others charged at the young mage, but he caused more of them to be immobilized. Alexandros was punching and smashing any knight coming his way; his attacks were those of ultimate fury.

"All right, little dragon, let's start the show!" Lance yelled. He quickly hurled a small knife to Alexandros, who caught it by its handle and used to it to easily slice off the chains binding Rosheil. He then moved on to the other prisoners and began freeing them too. Rosheil muttered a word of thanks to Lance and rushed forward, joining Nicolas in attacking knights.

Soon all of the prisoners were free and escaping the cavern rapidly. Lance was trying to lure the dragon away to no avail. He dodged another blast of fire and charged forward, only to be smacked backwards by its long tail.

"Rosheil, take Nicolas and Alex and get out of here!" Lance hurriedly called out.

"How about you?"

"I'll handle this; just get the hell out of here!' Rosheil nodded and ran out, with Nicolas and Alex behind him. The other knights roared in outrage and followed the three escaping men away, out of the cave which had suddenly turned into a battlefield.

A deathly roar thundered from the dragon's mouth. The cave shook violently as the beast took a step forward. Lance gripped his Longsword and tried not to run away from pure fear. It was now Lance against the blue dragon. One on one. Man on beast.

"Damn!" Lance roared as he got hit on the leg by a rapid blast of fire from the dragon. He collapsed onto the ground, writhing in pain as the dragon raised a claw, ready to impale the Slayer.

Suddenly, Victoros ran into the cave as fast as he could, and raised his Godsword, in time to block the claw which had spiked down at Lance's helpless form.

"Is that you, Victoros?" Lance asked, looking up slowly at his former comrade.

"Yes," Victoros answered, grinning. "It looks like you owe me one now."

"Whatever," Lance said, smiling back. "Let's finish this brute off!" He managed to jump back onto his feet, and he charged at the dragon, stabbing its hide with his Longsword. The dragon roared and knocked Victoros onto the ground; it began chasing Lance deeper into the cave.

"You great ugly brute," Lance barked at the dragon, causing it to roar more loudly. Lance dodged another blast of fire from the dragon and continued to run deeper into the cave with all the energy left in his worn out legs. The dragon continued to send blasts of fire at the Slayer to no avail. However, as Lance finished another insult at the dragon, he accidentally tripped over a stray rock and collapsed onto the cave floor with a loud _thud!_ He struggled to get up, but he felt intense heat near him; Lance quickly rolled to the side, and a blast of fire zoomed past, burning the spot where he lay a moment ago.

Lance glanced up at the towering dragon in grim hopelessness. "Looks like this is the end."

The dragon opened its mouth wide, and let out such an immense blast of fire that Lance thought the whole cave was going to get burnt down along with him. However, Victoros quickly bounded across the ground and lifted his Dragonfire Shield in time to absorb most of the fire. He activated the Shield, and sent the blast of fire zooming back at the completely surprised blue dragon. It growled as the fire pierced its thick hides, fully engulfing its huge body. Victoros held out his hand to Lance and pulled his fellow Slayer back upright. Lance dusted some dirt off his armor and glanced at Victoros' Dragonfire Shield in fascination.

"Where'd you get such an awesome shield, man?" Lance asked eagerly.

"Well, I got it made by Oziach of Edgeville; however, I heard he died in the Socialist assault. A sad ending for such a great armor-constructor; he personally smithed the Rune Platebody I'm wearing now," Victoros explained, rubbing the Rune Platebody once.

Lance nodded and turned back to the dragon. The great beast had been burnt quite badly by its own intense flames, even though it had the protection of its magical hides. The dragon staggered forward, weakened badly by the previous counterattack, but managed to let loose another blast of flames. Victoros stepped forward once again and let the Dragonfire Shield do its work. The dragon's thick feet staggered and its whole body collapsed onto the ground as the flames finished burning what's left of its hides. The counterattack was so powerful that even the nearby cave walls were scorched.

"Should we leave it here to die eventually, or kill it right now?" Lance demanded, fingering his Dragon Longsword.

Victoros shook his head as he inspected the downed dragon's body. "I think we should just let it die a peaceful death; I imagine it wasn't such an aggressive beast before the Kinshra captured it. Let's get out of here."

"As you say."

The two Slayers gave each other thumbs up, and headed back out of the Black Hole cave, glad to have finished their work. However, ten Black Knights who were hiding nearby, watching the previous fight, jumped out from behind stalagmites and drew their 2 hander swords. Victoros distinctly held up his Dragonfire Shield and Saradomin Godsword.

"You'll pay for killing our dragon!" one of the Knights growled.

"I think not, my friends," Victoros answered calmly. "You'll pay for torturing countless prisoners, vile knights!" The Slayer rushed forward and easily downed three knights with a few swings of his Sword. Meanwhile, Lance took down five knights by himself, using his Dragon Longsword to stab their armor and chop their helmless heads. Soon the Knights were all defeated, lying in a circle around the two victorious Slayers.

"Guess we taught you guys a lesson," Lance sneered as he followed Victoros back to Draynor. Rosheil, Alexandros and Nicolas were all waiting for them at the end of the path. Bodies of defeated Kinshra Black Knights were on the ground next to them, apparently struck by powerful magic.

"You made it back," Rosheil said.

"Of course," Victoros replied, grinning. "We're professional Slayers."

"Let's head back to the Tower," Nicolas suggested. The others nodded and they all dashed off in the direction of the Wizards' Tower.

"So, they made it back out alive," Volstagh Abumei mused. He reached into his pocket, grabbed out a crumpled piece of paper, and opened it slowly. The bounty hunter read through the paper again, and put it back into his pocket as he stood up, polishing a few Rune Knives with a cleaning cloth.

"The bounty list said the two Slayers' heads are worth five million each. I think it's time I made my move. Who knows, I might be rich by tomorrow."


	14. Confusion in Falador

As the group ran towards the Wizards' Tower, Victoros killed several attacking Black Knights with his Sword. When more Knights came charging, screaming and shrieking insults, Lance also joined the fun. By the time they reached the door of the majestic Tower, there were many knights lying dead on the bloodstained ground. Many of the knights were headless, bloody, and crushed. The remaining Knights were now terrified and had fled back to their cave to regroup. Even the ones occupying the Wizards' Tower ran off when they saw Victoros' group marching by.

"The Tower is saved!" Victoros exclaimed. "And all thanks to me!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Nicolas muttered, although he couldn't help grinning as well.

Kondaz, Johan and the other wizards rushed down to greet the group as they finally stepped onto the fountain square. Rosheil had become tired from his long run, so Kondaz escorted him upstairs to the Head Wizard's study room and tried to make him as relaxed as possible. Victoros, Alexandros, Nicolas and Lance followed the wizards upstairs.

"I must thank you guys dearly for rescuing Master Rosheil," Kondaz mumbled, bowing down deeply at Victoros' feet.

"Alexandros, I never did believe you'd get me out of there, but you did. I owe you my life, as well as other three of you. True courage and strength, two things I feel I must develop on," Rosheil said.

"All you need is faith and trust, something which we all need to improve on," Alexandros told the wizard. The wizards all thanked the group one by one for saving Rosheil from being burnt.

"I'll be off then," Nicolas said as the wizards finished thanking them.

"Where are you going?" Alexandros asked, turning to the young mage.

"Probably Falador, I'm gonna get myself some money."

"I'm coming with you," Victoros said. "I could do with the work there. Plus, I still haven't forgiven those stubborn guards for kicking me out."

"And me, even if I have to leave the Imperial Guards," Alexandros said. "With the Warrior's Guild nearby, Commander Joxcaite should be fine."

"I'll stay here for a while to rehab, and then catch up with you guys later at Falador," Lance stated. He bumped fists with Victoros, and then went downstairs to rest, followed by some wizards, who were big fans of his days in the Ardougne Slayer Force.

"Well if any of you ever need us, just call on us, and we shall be there instantly. And now we have control of the Tower again we can begin to sort out the problems with the essence mines. If we're quick they'll be partially functioning again by tomorrow evening, we might even get a few chaos runes or death runes out of it if we're lucky," Rosheil said happily. He leaned back in his chair and Kondaz rushed forward to bring him a cup of steaming coffee. The wizards all saluted the group as they left the room.

And with that, Victoros, Alexandros and Nicolas made their way off, in the direction of Falador...until…

"Damn! I've completely forgot about Joseph Dolciban! That poor lad is probably still in the rented room, waiting for me. I've got to go back and get him."

Nicolas rolled his eyes, but Alexandros intervened. "It's all right, Mr. Paladine, we'll go with you. We're a team now, right?"

"Right!" Victoros declared as the three of them turned back towards Draynor Village.

**Falador South Gate **

Vincent Jamison woke up. Another boring day in his little outpost to the south of the majestic city. He was an experienced guard, but never left the building he was stationed in. He would only be permitted into Falador when asked to be or in a dire emergency when the White Knights need more reinforcements. Everyday, Vincent looked out the dusty window on the side of his outpost, looking at Falador longingly. The guard sighed, walked over to the stove to make some food to eat, when he heard footsteps outside the oak door.

Today, a dire emergency knocked on his door. Actually, to be correct, five of them did.

As soon as Vincent opened the door, he stepped back in horror at the surprise visitors. He continued to retreat until he tripped over a wooden stool and collapsed onto the soft red carpet he had bought ages ago.

"Vincent Jamison, I presume. My grand name is Allen Hawkins, and my accomplices are Takrinqer, Darko, Kettok, and Crantus, four very awesome guys. We are giving you an offer which you can't refuse. Seriously, if you refuse, your life is at stake. Got that, hot shot?"

The man who said that had said it very aggressively, and due to his appearance Vincent thought he looked like an adventurer. The others, however, looked like a bunch of no-good wanderers, except for that Kettok. He was clearly a powerful Tzhaar. Vincent shivered just looking at the creature.

The guard stood up. "Well, you might as well come in. Grab a seat, and I'll make you all tea while we talk this over."

"I'll have at least two sugars."

The gang entered the small outpost and sat around a wooden table. Allen bowed his head as the others glanced uneasily at each other.

"So what is this offer?" Vincent demanded curiously as he walked back to the table, holding a tray lined with steaming mugs of tea. He sat down and offered each one of his guests the drinks, and put the tray underneath the table. He then leaned back in his chair while he waited for Allen to answer. That adventurer was clearly the leader of this strange troupe.

"I'll try to make this as simple as possible. Basically, you got to find a way to smuggle all five of us into Falador." Allen explained.

"I don't think it's possible. How in the world can I fit two adventurers, two thieves, and a burly Tzhaar into one parcel?"

"Then make it possible, Einstein!" Darko shouted aggressively, pounding a fist on the table. His mug of tea spilled all over the carpet at the vibration. Vincent flinched.

"When there's a will, there's a way. Ever heard of that?" Crantus smirked.

"All right, let me think. I suppose I can fit you into some very big parcels due to go into Falador. You'll fit, I suppose," Vincent stammered weakly.

"Best news I've heard all day," Allen muttered darkly.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get us into Falador!" Takrinqer bellowed, suddenly impatient. This whole smuggling thing was getting him angry.

"Course, Course," Vincent stammered again as he stood up. "Follow me, if you please."

The guard led the other five into the post room at the back of the outpost. The room was very big and dark, filled with crates and parcels of various sizes. Allen strode around until he saw an extremely large crate in the back of the room, and pointed a finger at it.

"This one will do, Vincent, but what's inside?" Allen enquired.

"Mostly weapons. Tons of it. The White Knights asked for it specifically. If you hide in it, be careful, as the weapons are very sharp," Vincent warned them.

But Kettok had already pulled the lid off, and was already climbing in. Everybody else followed, with Takrinqer, being the smallest, settling in last. He gave Vincent thumbs up, and the guard shut the lid tightly on them. There were a few small holes on the side of the large crate, and Allen spoke through them. The five were in a very uncomfortable position.

"Stop moving, Crantus! And, Vincent Jamison, if you betray us, we'll make sure you die very slowly and painfully in ways you can't imagine."

"Trust us, we're experienced at that," Darko grunted.

Vincent gulped and nodded slowly. He sounded the horn on the wall, and a few minutes later, some guards came in. They helped Vincent drag the crate out of the outpost to the southern gates of Falador.

"I'm Vincent Jamison, guardian of the outpost. Here's my ID and the White Knights' order."

The gate guards nodded, and the crate was let in. Vincent followed. The crate was then dragged into a small hut, with Vincent carefully following. A few guards walked into the hut after Vincent, and told him that they were going to search it.

"It's only weapons though!" Vincent protested.

The other guards looked at him strangely. "How can you be sure, terrorists and criminal organizations have ways of disguising menaces as weapons. The crate's much heavier than we thought, but we're still gonna search it."

Vincent had no choice but to stand back and watch as the guards stepped forward, strapping on thick gloves. The biggest guard reached out a muscle-bound hand and opened the crate easily. It was then that all hell broke loose.

An abyssal whip shot out of the crate and, grabbed the guard's neck, and strangled him. As his body crumpled onto the floor, the other guards distinctly attacked the crate valiantly, brandishing their swords and maces. There was a whistle, and Allen's group jumped out to confront their enemies.

Kettok easily ripped the sword of a guard, and hurled him into a wall. Two other guards charged at the Tzhaar, but Kettok punched them onto the ground, where their heads got stuck in a hole on the floor.

Crantus dodged a guard's swinging mace and took out his Darklight sword; he sliced the guard's hair completely off, and started to stab crazily at his enemy's bald head. The guard eventually collapsed, blood pouring out of his cut head.

Allen used his whip to tie up two guards and hurl them against a wall. He then marched over to their collapsed forms and started to whip them hard for no apparent reason.

Darko was an ace at throwing weaponry. He took out a poisoned rune knife, a sharp dart and a large throwing axe from his pouch, and prepared to attack. Three guards leapt at him, their eyes burning with hatred, but they all fell just as fast, when Darko's weapons slit their throats quickly.

There were only two guards left. They started to run away, but Takrinqer pulled out his Dragon Dagger. He stabbed the first guard in the back, killing him, and jumped over to the remaining guard, who cowered in fear. Takrinqer grinned mercilessly and punched the guard heavily in the stomach, sending him flying into a window, smashing it open. The group had defeated the guards, and Vincent was deeply impressed at their skill.

"This has certainly been a confusing, yet interesting day," Vincent murmured quietly.

"Vincent, you're coming with us on an adventure of a lifetime. By coming with us, we can make sure you don't run off and tell the Knights, also it'd be useful to have a guard aiding us."

The six of them ran out of the hut after locking it, just as an alarm sounded somewhere. Guards were running everywhere, as they had just discovered the bodies of their dead comrades in the hut. Also, the guardian of the outpost was missing. Kidnapping was not ruled out by official PIs.

Outside of Falador, Zazime and Gerard took this chance to sneak into Falador. The guards were completely confused by this sudden turn of events, so the duo was able to sneak in quite effortlessly. They ran along the towering wall towards the direction of the Castle.

"Where do we go now, Gerard?" Zazime asked his tutor.

"The Castle, of course," Gerard answered. Just then, a stray arrow flew over and impaled Gerard directly in the throat. He gasped and collapsed onto the ground. As the arrow zoomed out from the other side, its tip stained with blood. Zazime looked around in horror and quickly headed for his tutor's side. Gerard was losing a lot of blood; red liquid poured out from the fatal wound.

"Out you go intruders!" a guard wielding a longbow yelled, striding towards them. This must be the one who shot Gerard.

Zazime screamed and rushed over to the shocked guard, who let loose another arrow. This time, Zazime was ready, and he deflected the arrow with a slash of his Dragon Longsword. The guard was killed quickly as Zazime stabbed him through the chest with his Longsword.

"Zazime…come here," Gerard groaned. Zazime spat on the guard's corpse, and hurried back to his dying tutor.

"I'm gonna die soon, but I have one last request," Gerard whispered weakly. He struggled to stand up, and fell over again. Zazime bowed his head, tears cascading down his cheeks.

"Be sure to find out all you can about Falador. I think it might've been corrupted; I'll never know. My guess is that some other force has taken over Falador from the outside, and now the economy crisis is affecting the whole world except this city. It may be that Falador is the true culprit. However, Zazime, as you investigate this, I want you to be safe; don't attempt risky things. It may be that war will break out soon…" With that, Gerard closed his eyes for the final time. His body went limp.

Zazime stood up and brushed away his tears. _Don't worry, Gerard. I'll make you proud and get to the bottom of this. _The young adventurer quickly found a spade and buried his dead tutor under a pile of flowers. He uttered a quick prayer and ran off.

Volstagh Abumei watched all this without emotion, from high atop the wall. As soon as Zazime disappeared from sight, the bounty hunter jumped down from the wall in one huge leap and hurried over to where Gerard was buried. Grinning like a maniac, he grabbed the spade nearby and set to work.

"This'll fetch quite a bit of money from the bounty station," Volstagh grinned as he prepared to dig up Gerard's body.

It was a very sunny day. The gang of six walked out of a house near the large park, having robbed it of all its food, and headed for the newly-established Falador market. The guards were absent. The traders were present, as was bustling customers. Apparently there was still plenty of money to go around here.

"The guards have probably been summoned by the king to continue their man hunt or whatever," Crantus muttered darkly.

"D'you think we should buy supplies or steal 'em?" Darko smirked.

"I don't really care," Vincent declared. He was finally seeing all the grand buildings and sights of Falador!

"Without any guards around, you could easily get away with it," Allen told his greedy comrade. Darko rubbed his hands in anticipation.

They could see two entrances to the city. They looked at the left, and saw a terrible sight. The Socialists. They had been stopped by the councilors at the gate. But they wouldn't say no.

The six ran to a nearby house, and hid in it. They stared out of the window, and they could hear loud voices.

"Don't use such vulgar language!" bellowed an angry councilor to General Vaarku. The market suddenly became silent as everyone turned to watch.

Socialist soldiers were raising their weapons, but Vaarku gestured for them to lower their weapons.

"If you don't let us in right now, I'll have the rest of my army storm the city from all sides of the border!" snapped General Vaarku.

"By the order of the King and Order of the White Knights-"

"That's the last straw. Your king can shove this up his ass!"

Vaarku shoved a sword through the councilor's chest brutally. The councilor gasped and collapsed instantly, while the others stood stunned.

"Finish 'em off, Zaseke," Vaarku ordered a soldier standing right beside him. The soldier raced at the remaining councilors and quickly finished them off. Suddenly, Vaarku grabbed a trumpet from a nearby Socialist soldier and blew into it loudly.

Then the gates all over the city suddenly burst, and the Socialists were storming the streets.

The citizens paused, and stuck their hands in the air, surrendering. The soldiers brushed past them and rammed down all the doors. Families were terrified. The marketplace was suddenly chaotic as customers and traders alike tried to escape to their homes.

But suddenly, the soldiers withdrew, and they all marched to the Castle, on orders by General Vaarku.

Several White Knights and guards emerged, but they retreated into the castle as soon as they saw the upcoming army. Captain Leodon quickly knocked down a retreating knight and pulled him over to General Vaarku by the hair.

"I request an audience with your king..." grinned Vaarku manically.

*********************************************************************The six stepped back into the market. All the citizens quickly ran outside, and constantly chattered with each other. Others stood still, waiting for something big to happen. Falador was in chaos.

"Right, we are not going to surrender! We tried so hard and got so far! We've gone too far to loose it all!" Allen roared at his team.

"We shall stick by you like glue, whatever the situation!" Crantus announced, and slapped his chest with one hand. The rest repeated.

"I shall scout for us! There are some people around the corner!" Kettok said, as he stomped off. He came back two minutes later.

"They are not our enemies, but we better make ourselves scarce, just in case."

"Who were they?" Vincent enquired fearfully. "Not allies of the Socialists?"

"An archer, a mage, an Imperial Guard soldier, and a warrior with a pretty nice sword. The warrior said his name was Victoros or something."

Allen, Takrinqer and Darko stared at each other in disbelief. They then walked off, to find another hiding place, with the other three following them closely, before Victoros could come by.

"Well, that weirded me out," Joseph screeched loudly. "First the Socialists came barging in, and then a Tzhaar came by!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Victoros grumbled absentmindedly. "We'll discover our next move soon enough." He motioned for his group to follow, and they headed back into the marketplace.

As General Vaarku explained their next move to the rest of his army, Zaseke wasn't listening. He was looking down at a small enchanted jewel in his palm. The jewel allowed communication between him and the Serkotzul leader.

"Zaseke, when you get the chance, finish off the Socialists," the leader rasped. "Although I suppose the Knights would've finished them off by then. Falador is already under my complete control, and you did a good job getting them inside. I'm currently in the Castle; meet me when you have the chance. Next, some annoying pests have also entered the city. My spies tell me that yet another is coming, by the name of Mathis Vendai. I'll have Sliske finish him off. Out."

Zaseke nodded shortly and put the jewel back inside a pocket…


	15. The Stalking Assassin

Mathis Vendai stood at the Northern Gate of Falador. His face was worn out, smeared with blood; his chest heaved as he breathed heavily. He was obviously frustrated by something, or someone, looking at his expression. He slowly moved his eyeball to look out of the corner of his eye at someone standing a few yards away from him. Mathis strode forward slowly, stopping beneath a huge oak tree. Just as he suspected, a red-haired man took a few steps forward as well. Taking careful watch over him was a H.A.M (Human Against Monsters) member, clad in purplish-pink robes. Mathis' hair blew slightly in the breeze, and he continued to walk into Falador. There were strangely no guards in sight.

After his short tussle with the White Knights in the Grand Exchange of Ardougne, he had decided to take a look at Falador for himself. What happened in the Exchange was horrible; he had hidden behind a large counter and watched the clerks get slaughtered one by one as the White Knights ruthlessly stabbed them. Niles was even beheaded! Then he had watched the Knights take weapons and armor out of the storage boxes, apparently for their own use. He knew something was wrong for the usually noble knights to do such a dastardly deed. After escaping the terror-stricken Exchange, Mathis made final preparations and had journeyed to Falador. Along the way, he had killed five H.A.M members who were torturing a harmless Unicorn near Catherby, and when he left, the surviving member had followed him closely; through White Wolf Mountain's perils, down Taverley, all the way here. Mathis also noticed a Falador symbol on the H.A.M. man's robe top, small as it was. He had no idea if the H.A.M member was a White Knight in disguise, or simply someone who had lived in Falador once, joined the Human Against Monsters organization, and was now looking to avenge his comrades' deaths.

_I need to do something about that man, _Mathis thought tiredly as he headed into the city square briskly. The H.A.M member followed, dodging behind a column as Mathis turned his head slightly. Shaking his head, Mathis walked into the Rising Sun Inn for a quick drink. "I'll have a milk," Mathis ordered, tapping the counter for attention. The bar area was completely empty apart from him.

"Kay mate. That'll be fifty coins," the bartender replied.

"What the hell? Fifty coins? That's a complete rip-off!"

"I'm practically out of business even in such a grand city, what do you expect?"

"I'm practically broke, for god's sake! This is outrageous!"

With that, Mathis threw a dirty glance at the bartender, spun around, and marched out of the open doors. The bartender stared silently at the floor for a moment, and then headed back to clean his glasses.

"At this rate, my Inn's gonna collapse to the might of the White Shield," the bartender groaned, looking out of a side window at the newly-opened White Shield inn. He could make out customers piling up the bar room. The White Shield was making him bankrupt! All his old customers now headed to the White Shield for no apparent reason other than the wider variety of drinks and better design.

Mathis walked along a road, and he did not notice the H.A.M member still tailing him, dodging behind columns and bushes at every given chance. Mathis was extremely hungry, having run all the way from Ardougne. He walked into the Falador Market and caught sight of the food stall. His eyes brightened as he walked over, only to notice the price tag list taped on the side of the stall.

The jeweler grabbed Mathis and tried to pull him to his jewelry stall. "Yo, mate, why don't you buy my wares?" the jeweler exclaimed. Mathis shook him off and continued staring at the list.

Mathis' eyes widened in surprise. "No way! A Cake for 3,000 GP? Outrageous!"

As he read through the rest of the list, he was not surprised to see anything "chocolate" on it. Ever since the economic slump, chocolate had not been available for months except at the Gnome Stronghold, which was a fair distance away from his hometown of Ardougne. Barely any humans had the supplies to travel to the Stronghold due to the powerful beasts strolling the woods before it. Saliva trickled out of Mathis' mouth as he glanced longingly at the food. He glanced sneakily around, and the owner of the food stall was nowhere in sight.

"To hell with it…" Mathis muttered quietly. He looked around again, and quickly swiped a cake off the stall. He started to charge out of the marketplace with the cake safely in his hands, but just then the H.A.M member leapt out from behind a bunch of crates at the corner and pointed at Mathis. The H.A.M member started to cup his hands around his mouth, and Mathis froze.

"Thief alert! THIEF ALERT!" the H.A.M man boomed. The food stall owner strode out of a nearby house and gasped as he saw his cake in Mathis' hands. Mathis stood stunned as the owner rushed forward and grabbed the uneaten cake back; the H.A.M member strode forward quickly and knocked him out with a punch to the head.

Mathis woke up inside a pillory cell at the southern end of the city. He rubbed his sore head and sniffed his nose at an unpleasant smell. He found that his whole body had been splattered in smelly rotten tomato soup. A kid nearby had grabbed a rotten tomato off a crate and was now preparing to hurl it at Mathis. Mathis shook a fist at the kid, who dropped the tomato in alarm and ran off. Mathis looked around; it was already dead midnight. How long had he been knocked out? Shaking most of the slop off, Mathis brought out his Dragon Claws and easily slashed the lock off the sturdy cell door. He pushed it open and strode out. No one was around; the streets were silent. He swiftly travelled to the Falador Market and swiped all of the cakes from the food stall; he then darted out of sight behind an old house and devoured all six of the full-sized cakes in less than three minutes due to his hunger. As he ate the cakes happily, he did not notice the H.A.M member watching him intently from behind an oak tree nearby. Mathis suddenly felt exhausted from his long journey prior to entering the city, and walked over to the shade of a Yew tree. He collapsed onto his backpack and instantly fell into a deep sleep…the H.A.M member stared at his collapsed form one more time, and then walked away into the darkness.

Mathis awoke the next day. He stretched his weary arms high and yawned. He had a weird dream the night before, as if some huge battle was going to take place. He yawned again and forced himself up from the soft grass. Unfortunately, his racket had caused another inhabitant of the tree to awake. Mathis picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder as he started to walk forward, only to be knocked back onto the ground by a tramp naked to the waist, who had just wildly jumped down from the tree.

"Argh!" Mathis grunted as he landed on the ground.

"Where you going, mate?" the tramp exclaimed with a Karamjan accent.

Mathis glanced at the dirty tramp with dislike. Probably a Karamja refugee who escaped on one of the charter ships.

"Well, what were you doing here, scrawny guv?" the tramp persisted, showing a mouthful of black teeth.

"I was….sleeping here until you disturbed me!" Mathis angrily cried.

"I knew it!" the tramp crowed in delight. "But listen here, this he're is ma tree, you gots that? It's ma own propert'y, yeah? You bettah gettah outta here, scrawny dude, before I hound ya off meself!"

"I was just gonna go~"

"Say, ain't you fancy folk usually live in da fancy inn?" the tramp hollered. "Why we're you here sharin' ma tree, eh?"

"The inns are outrageous nowadays; their room rents; drink prices, all of it, it's all outrageously priced!" Mathis complained as he stood up, dusting his clothes.

"Ah, I see. Yer broke now, eh? With da whole economic thingy?"

"Yeah, you got that right. I had to reserve to the lowly life of a thief," Mathis answered, a bit sadly.

"Well, I see now. Yer a fellow tramp, aren't ya?" the tramp demanded, suddenly brandishing a gleaming iron dagger. "Homeless now, righ'? Well, yer welcome to stay here as long as you wants, tramp guv!"

"Look who's talking! I am not a tramp!" Mathis retorted. "Stop brandishing that sorry excuse for a weapon at me, _tramp_. I've got things to do, so let's call this a day and leave me alone."

"Golleeee! Me name is Kyioh, nice ta meecha, tramp guy!" the tramp proceeded to hold out an extremely dirty hand. It was covered with bird poop, nasty dung, dirt, and other various atrocities. He waited expectantly at Mathis, who almost vomited right there.

"No thanks, Kyle, I think I'll have to pass out on the offer. My name's Mathis Vendai, by the way."

"Ah, Mateees, eh? See ya!" Kyle the tramp waved his dirty hand, and scampered up into the tree like a squirrel.

Mathis shook his head. The world was full of weird people. He continued on, walking along a path to find out what to do next.

I, Mathis, headed northeast, towards the Falador Park. Slipping on a quick costume fashioned from stolen silk, I blended in as a clothing connoisseur visiting from Varrock, though I still smelled of rotten tomatoes. I saw some Guam lying on the ground near a tree, and hurried over to it. I picked it up and rubbed it all over myself roughly. The intense scent of Guam quickly and effectively destroyed the scent I had acquired from that night in the pillory. I loved ducks; maybe I could see some at the Park; I heard there was a pretty big pond there. I began to run, motivated by the very thought of flapping ducks!

I followed him. Behind trees, through windows, next to crates, I followed him wherever I could. Ever since I smuggled myself into that worthless group of H.A.M unicorn haters. That scoundrel who'd wreck the Serkotzul and Vyvin's plans. Mathis Vendai. The name was like poison to the mind. But why was I following him? Because he knew. He knew and he had to be killed: by me. Or else he would spread word of the plan to embezzle all of the gold in the world, bringing Kandarin and Misthalin to their worthless knees! He might even know about our plan to dominate, completely and utterly…

Ducks! Oh, wait, not again. That H.A.M guy is following me again. I can sense it perfectly. What should I do now….?

Vendai took off sprinting towards the Falador Park now. He was muttering something. "Ducks, ducks, ducks!" I dripped a few drops of 'Peter Potter's Patented Pure Posion Perfection' on my sword. The grimacing green liquid slid around on the flat side of the shiny blade swiftly. I put on some thick leather gloves and added an ingredient of my own. Cadava juice. I crushed a berry above my sword easily. Its juice mixed with the green poison, curdling and making a wide array of swirling, pretty colors. Pretty, but deadly, of course. I ran off behind him; my lightening boots covering up my sound. Lord Statius and Sir Vyvin would be happy to know I killed Mathis Vendai…

I stepped into Falador Park, but I had a bad feeling. He was coming. But then, I was prepared fully. Sorry, ducks, it'll have to wait before I can see you. I stood straight fully and prepared to counter my assassin.

Heh…that Vendai, what was wrong with him, standing there like a statue? Why wasn't he going near the pond to see his dear duckies? I chuckled, gripping my poisoned sword tightly, preparing to stab it into flesh.

I stood there calmly, hearing rapid footsteps behind me. Just as the sound of heavy breathing got louder, I spun around, in time to dodge the stab that would've caused my death. I landed near the long bench, and got out my Dragon Claws. The H.A.M member stood there, surprised that I managed to dodge his attack. But then, I was always the fastest one in my class, the one with the best reflexes. I calmly watched my enemy charge towards me for a second try at my life. It was time to finish off the guy who's been tailing me for so long. As the H.A.M man neared me, his face twisted in an expression of pure hatred, I used my Dragon Claws to slash him on the leg, causing a large gash. My enemy gasped in pain and staggered slightly; I raised my other Claw, ready to end his life. As I brought my Claw down with all my might, the H.A.M member lashed forward his sword, which was brimming with poison, with fast speed. I managed to swerve to the side, but the tip of the blade caught me slightly on the stomach, tearing the fabric. I quickly slammed the Claw onto his neck, slamming his whole body onto the ground. My attack probably broke his neck. However, my body was going numb at the same time. I felt sharp pain in my legs, and the cut caused by the sword exerted pure agony. My arms were going numb, as well as the rest of my body. I staggered and collapsed onto my knees, my mind screaming from the pain. I was losing consciousness as the poison pervaded quickly throughout my whole body; it was deadlier than I thought. However, I managed to use the last ounce of my strength to grab out a small antidote from my pocket. I forced the liquid down my aching throat as I collapsed, sapped of all strength.

Mathis woke up. His body had regained its original strength, and the pain had long rescinded. Mathis picked himself off the grass and walked over to his attacker, the H.A.M member. The man was dead, having died of the wound Mathis gave him. The deadly poisoned Sword laid on the ground next to the man's corpse, and Mathis was about to go before he noticed a small piece of papyrus next to the lifeless body. Mathis carefully stepped over the poisonous sword and picked the piece of papyrus up. On it was nearly illegible scrawl, and Mathis frowned before settling himself on the bench. He quickly read through the note silently.

_To Sliske, Serkotzul member #2: _

_We must DESTROY the Bank System based in Ardougne and get all of the cash! All the gold will come straight to us, bringing Kandarin to its KNEES! All of that cash will be invested in WAR MACHINES to DESTROY Catherby and Burthorpe! We will succeed! We needn't worry about STUPID Taverley; they only have some WEAK GUTHIXIAN druids! We will CONQUER Gielinor if all goes well! WHICH IT WILL! I want you and your ELITE UNIT to go up to ARDOUGNE and IMPRISON all in power! Then, kill all bank clerks with NO prejudice! They will all know the PURE POWER of FALADOR! Lastly, if anyone finds out about the embezzlement, KILL THEM! PREFERBLY GET RID OF some of those annoying H.A.M pests along the way! Pretend to join them if you must! KILL! ASGARNIA OWNS! _

_Sir Vyvin, soon-to-be ruler of Gielinor (on orders from Lord Statius)_

_P.S. Lord Statius of Serkotzul is quite satisified with the progress. Your other Serkotzul comrades are hard at work, if all goes well, THE WORLD WILL BE IN THE HANDS OF THE WHITE KNIGHTS AND SERKOTZUL BOTH! _

Holy crap. What the hell! Unbelievable. Sir Vyvin, one of the greatest White Knight leaders ever, was doing this! And who were the Serkotzul? Probably some evil organization in cahoots with the corrupt White Knights. This man, Sliske, who had tried to slay me, was a Serkotzul member. The word had to get out instantly, to some good ears! I walked out of the park, shaking my head, and noticed a group of people to the east. Apparently they were headed by a man named "Victor-Os." I ran over to them, sharing the news.

"HEY GUYS! LISTEN TO WHAT I DISCOVERED!"


	16. Ice Mountain Frenzy

The message had come at the first break of daylight. Zazime did not see who had delivered the message; the messenger had long gone. It was still early in the morning, but the marketplace sellers were already up and moving, getting their stalls set up for a day's work. Zazime walked over to sit under the shade of a huge oak tree; there was a slight breeze today, and Zazime liked the way the wind blew through his black hair. The young adventurer set his heavy backpack, which was jingling with gold coins, on the soft grass beside him, snuggled into his warm black robe, and carefully slipped the message out of its white envelope. He tossed the envelope onto the grass and unrolled the parchment; on it were words written in legible style. His eyes quickly scanned the message. The bakery stall owner was already roaring out his wares.

_It's either death or glory. Meet me on the Ice Mountain ASAP. If you want your Dragon Longsword back, be prepared for a fight. _

That was when Zazime realized his precious weapon was missing. The adventurer hurriedly jumped up, flinging his robe aside, and looked around. It was true; his Dragon Longsword, a gift from his former tutor Gerard himself, was gone. Zazime's mouth fell open in shock, and he glanced back at the message with hatred. Whoever sent this had taken his Longsword, and the only way to get it back was to go to Ice Mountain. Zazime grasped his backpack, and flung his robe over his shoulder, prepared to head off.

He knew this must be a trap or something; who'd take his Longsword as a bait otherwise? If it was a one-on-one duel, then he would be at the disadvantage without a weapon; his opponent obviously would have one ready. However, being an adventurer means facing off against something far stronger than you isn't considered out of the world. In fact, adventurers look forward to all sorts of perils; beating a hazardous obstacle was a great feat for them. Zazime walked into the marketplace and replenished his food supply by buying several loaves of bread; he reluctantly reached into his backpack and brought out the shiny, gleaming coins of gold. It was bad enough that bread prices had rose; he didn't even have a job! All he had left in wealth was his Longsword, armor, and Gerard's leftover money. Zazime thanked the stall owner and put the breads into his backpack slowly, wrapping them in plastic foil. He zipped his backpack shut tightly, and practically ran out of the market, heading straight for the northern gate. If he was to investigate the true nature of Falador's treachery, then he would have to reclaim his only weapon. It had to be done quickly; no, rapidly, even. The adventurer did not look back as he charged out of the poorly-guarded north entrance. The nearby guards, who were supposed to be on vigilant watch, were asleep in nearby folding chairs. So much for tight security. The sun was beginning to rise high, and Zazime was prepared for anything. He wasn't weak and vulnerable like wannabes; he was a fully-fledged fighter now. His Sword is proof of his title, so he had to get it back in order to avenge Gerard's death. Zazime strode rapidly up the stone steps towards the towering Ice Mountain.

Two large birds flew in a delta around the mountain. Up here nothing aside from tiny insects and worthless rodents lived; any major food animals were long gone. The Icefiends had been eradicated a few weeks ago by angry dwarves who were tired of the constant coldness. All the good prey lived down in the forest and out on the plains, but the birds' species memory told them that threats could and did appear from the top of the mountain, so a constant vigilance was maintained. The birds circled once more, spied someone in the distance, and hurriedly zoomed back to the summit, where they landed.

"It seems like that kid's coming," Rapter Henankez sneered slightly. He watched Zazime run along the stone path, his sharp, yellow eyes observing the adventurer thoroughly. Rapter turned and walked along the snowy summit towards another figure sitting on a large boulder, seemly at ease.

"You sure you can handle this?" Rapter prompted as he shot a brief glance at the ruby-red Dragon Longsword lying in a pile of snow. That kid must be a rich one to own such a fine weapon. Rapter's fingers jiggled with newfound desire to grab the Sword for himself. Alas, he cannot, as it was the kid's. The Serkotzul are an evil organization, but they don't resort to thieving.

"Of course," the other man snapped.

"With only one pouch?"

"Of course," the other man grunted again. "One pouch is all I need to rid this kid."

"You heard about the death of Manuel? He was dressed up as a Falador guard in order to try assassinate that kid and his tutor Gerard. However, he only managed to kill Gerard before being stabbed by the kid! As a Serkotzul member, that's a total disgrace, to die at the hands of a mere teenager!" Rapter shouted.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine, Master Rapter," the other man insisted. "Go on and inform Master Statius; I expect I'll be able to finish the kid off pretty soon. I've got his weapon right here, although I plan on holding a fair battle."

"Quite the gentleman," Rapter mused. "I'll be off, then. Final preparations must be done; Volstagh and Zaseke will have to be contacted too. The Socialists' downfall isn't very far now."

Rapter stomped past his comrade towards two large shadows. It was two black-feathered Giant Rocs, perched on the side of the mountain. They clicked their beaks and their eyes narrowed as Rapter came by, but they softened as they recognized the Serkotzul member. Rapter waved at one of the Rocs, and hurled himself onto the immense bird of prey's back with ease. The Roc spread its wings wide, preparing for takeoff.

Rapter turned his head as the Roc went airborne. The sun's rays shone brightly on Rapter's dark cloak, making him seem like some sort of bringer from the skies. Vancori stood up from the boulder, strode over, and watched Rapter. His black boots were practically white by now. "Vancori, I'll be back soon to check your progress. That kid's almost here, he's at the base of the mountain." With that, the Roc clicked its beak again, and flew off into the distance until it was nothing but a dark speck. The bird had left quite a large set of talon-prints in the deep layer of snow. One slash of those talons could easily rip out a human's internal organs.

"What a fool that Rapter is," Vancori hissed to himself. "What an insult, saying I might lose to a mere kid…" He walked over to the remaining Giant Roc, and placed a calm hand on the ferocious bird's closed beak. Normally a human would've been terrified to death when approaching such an unpredictable bird of prey at such a close distance. Vancori, however, had personally raised these birds from fledglings; in return, the Rocs held undying loyalty to the Serkotzul member.

Vancori glanced down at the mountain again, which was lightened by the bright rays of the sun. He started to unclasp his onyx-black cloak, revealing armor made out of pure dragonhide skin, even though it was still freezing. It was no matter; the Serkotzul had trained their members to be fully-adapted to any environment. "It's time to fight."

Zazime Helcome's fingers closed around another rocky outcrop roughly. His leather gloves were worn out and dirty. For several hours the mountainside had been proceeding vertically on all sides, with not one diagonal he could try to walk up. So he had precariously been climbing his way, trying to reach a large rocky outcrop that preceded the final, smooth diagonal of ice and snow. He pulled himself up, and looked ahead to realize that now he was in front of a narrow but safe ledge. Snow dribbled down from somewhere above, but Zazime ignored it. He raised himself onto it and sat down, resting his arms and taking a quick drink from a bottle he had bought earlier. Then he looked down swiftly. In the far distance he could see the huge brown ledge which he had escaped from a few hours beforehand. Tiny pinpricks of red and crimson dotted the ledge and the sky. But three larger dots appeared, just of the mountainside, and slowly growing. Zazime squinted at them, and then realized what they were. He immediately packed his bottle away, stood back up and started climbing again. Zazime sighed as he tried to throw himself up onto another ledge; he never knew Ice Mountain was this hard to climb. The sun was still shining hard; his whole body was brimming with sweat. Zazime gritted his teeth and continued on.

By some feat of nature and extraordinary bad luck Zazime was arriving at the top of the cliff in the middle of a blizzard. As his palm touched the freezing stone he almost lost his grip – but his feet found a steady hold, and he lifted himself up. With some difficulty, he released a huge burst of energy that sent him over the edge and rolling onto the snowy ground. Snow started to pile on him, but he did not move. He lay there for a second, eyes closed, body strength slowly regenerating. Then he opened his eyes. Zazime shook some snow off him, and gasped.

Three tall figures in sky-blue hooded cloaks stood around him, each carrying a long wooden pole. Zazime lifted his upper body to try and show he meant no harm. Beneath each hood a stern, pallid face glared down at him, although all he could so far see were their lined mouths. Zazime smiled sheepishly. Suddenly, the figures threw their poles into the air. Zazime watched, bewildered. Suddenly each one threw his cloak off, revealing three strong, athletic men in another set of light blue robes. Each held his hand in the air, in which the poles landed exactly. Their fingers wrapped around the poles tightly, and they started to swing them, performing strange moves that seemed somewhere between ritual and show-off. Zazime got up quickly and backed off, scampering as fast as he could with his snowy boots. His backpack hit a dying, snow-covered tree hard, preventing him from moving any further. The three figures closed in, grins widening and their poles spinning faster than ever. Zazime raised his hands, again trying to show he meant no harm, but to no avail. The figures spun their poles rapidly. The three of them curled their lips into evil sneers. Two leapt in the air, flying towards Zazime, their eyes burning with passion to kill. He raised his arms in the air to protect himself as he attempted to look away.

And then they were snatched out of the air by two huge birds. Zazime lowered his arms to see the gigantic avian predators dig their talons deep into the two fighters. The third fighter spun around just as a third bird spun into him, ramming him in the chest with it's gigantic beak. Zazime leapt aside as the bird-propelled body slammed into the tree behind him with such force that the wood splintered. The bird flared its wings, stopping itself just in front of the ruined tree. The fighter stood up, moaning in the pain of broken ribs and bones everywhere. As he raised himself the bird pounced forward, snatching the man in it's beak and carrying him away, front body flailing, legs deep inside it's mouth. The three birds rejoined their formation and flew off. Zazime watched gobsmacked. Then he saw a large tent in the midst of the falling snow; he hurried over to it. Opening the flap, the adventurer dived in, glad to be safe from the monstrous avians and the ferocious snow outside.

"Look who we have here," a voice suddenly rang out in the tent, seemly full of gloat.

Zazime looked forward and saw a man dressed in a dark cloak striding towards him from the end of the tent. He had a large S mark on the cloak, and a brown pouch was clipped to his belt. The man stopped inches from Zazime's bewildered face.

"So, Zazime Helcome, prepare to meet your doom," the man snarled. He stretched out a hand, and in it was Zazime's Dragon Longsword. The adventurer's face was full of hatred as he glared at the man.

Noticing Zazime glancing at the Sword, the man hurled the weapon to the adventurer, who quickly caught it expertly.

"My name is Vancori, and I am a member of the Serkotzul. All will be revealed in due time, but I'm afraid you won't live to see it. Those three men outside who attacked you were my henchmen; they had no orders to eliminate you, so I had my Rocs destroy them for disobeying me. I personally would like to see your power; I heard you killed Manuel Kopos, one of my Serkotzul comrades, with just a single stab. Anyway, let's begin…I only gave you back the Sword to fight."

Vancori flipped open the tent flap and headed outside. The blizzard had seemly stopped, as nothing was heard outside the tent. Zazime breathed deeply. It was certainly a weird day. First he had found his Sword to be missing, and after scaling a tough mountain, he now had to face a Serkotzul member one on one! Zazime considered making a run for it, but decided against it when he remembered Gerard and Falador. If he had to live up to his title of a warrior and find out what's really behind the economic crisis and Falador's corrupted Knights, then he would have to finish this Vancori off.

_Let__'s see how strong a Serkotzul is, _Zazime thought grimly as he grasped his Longsword tightly. He inhaled one more time, and then strode out to meet his opponent.

Vancori saw him walk out of the snow-covered tent. The sun was once again shining brightly, and the sky was clear. Zazime looked around; no other human was in sight. This would be a one-on-one fight. _Concentrate, _Zazime told himself repeatedly. His boots dug into the snow deeply, and his muscles tensed. His eyes focused directly on the calm looking Vancori.

Without warning, Zazime charged forward directly at his opponent. He lashed out with his Dragon Longsword, aiming for Vancori's heart, but the Serkotzul member jumped straight into the air. Zazime stopped and used all the energy in his legs to leap into the air after his opponent. He slashed again but Vancori ducked in midair and started to lose altitude. Zazime pointed his Sword downwards, and the ruby-red weapon gleamed wickedly as it pointed at Vancori's throat.

Just then, there was a gust of powerful wind, and the sound of beating wings was heard. Zazime felt the full blast of wind and collapsed onto the snow, his Sword dropping limply into the snow beside him. He forced himself to stand up again, and he saw a Giant Roc zooming by, with Vancori on its back. The Roc dived; Zazime rolled out of the way, grabbing his Sword quickly and jumping straight up to dodge the razor-sharp talons sweeping his way. As the talons scraped across the ground, Zazime could feel the extreme impact, and knew that the giant bird was powerful in strength. Zazime clutched his Sword as the Roc swerved high up into the clear sky, with Vancori sitting on its back leisurely.

"You coward!" Zazime spat angrily. "Fight me yourself!"

"Oh, I will," Vancori called down lazily. He did not seem to be insulted by the comment. In fact, he looked amused. "I'll show you my true power: the art of explosions!"

The Serkotzul member stood up to full height, and opened his brown pouch. Reaching inside, he grabbed out several small, lifelike figurines of Crimson Swift birds. He grinned evilly and hurled the Swifts down at full force.

Zazime took one look at the coming birds and laughed. "You expect me to lose to a bunch of tiny, fake birds?" he asked in a sarcastic tone. "Forget about it!"

Suddenly, the figurines expanded to full size, much to Zazime's shock. The birds continued to fly down at full speed, now that they were real Crimson Swifts! Zazime prepared to slash them down, but he noticed Vancori opening his mouth. Quickly, the adventurer dived to the side as Vancori roared, "Joukekei!"

Zazime watched, bewildered and stunned, as the Crimson Swifts stopped momentarily and exploded at full force. The explosion almost knocked Zazime off the face of the immense mountain, but he managed to stab his Longsword into the ground and hold on to it tightly. As the smoke cleared, Vancori grinned down at the shocked adventurer.

"You see the power of my art now, heh?" Vancori jeered. "My birds can explode freely whenever I roar out the command word Joukekei. You managed to dodge; I admire your nimbleness. However, let's see you dodge this one!"

Vancori reached into his pouch again and brought out two tiny figurines of brown Copper Longtails. He opened his palm and the figurines dropped out, only to expand instantly into full-sized Copper Longtail birds. The birds began to flap their wings at rapid speed, and they blazed down at separate angles towards Zazime, who gripped his Longsword out of the ground and prepared to defend himself. The birds neared Zazime, and he barely had enough time to raise his Sword when Vancori opened his mouth.

"Damn!" Zazime groaned as he watched the birds propel towards him. It was too late to run.

"Say goodbye---JOUKEKEI!"

_Bang!_ The impact of the explosion sent Zazime rocketing over the edge of the mountain. He tried to stab his Sword into the mountainside in order to gain leverage, but the explosion was too rapid and he was being sent flying too fast. He fell down, down, and down…

Vancori sat on his Giant Roc, admiring his work. He had finished the kid off. With that, the Serkotzul member ordered his Roc to fly to Falador instantly…

At the Wizards Tower, Lance Jaszas was just leaving. He bid farewell to Rosheil and Kondaz, and walked along the sturdy bridge towards Falador. The Slayer couldn't wait to rendezvous with his companions again. At the same time though, he couldn't help anticipate what would happen next. Surely something big would happen…


	17. When Zamorakians Attack

"What the…?" Lance Jaszas muttered to himself as he advanced on the fleeing Zamorakian monk. Lance had been heading for Falador when a strange, red-robed monk with a dreadful scar across his left cheek had burst out of nowhere and ambushed him along the road from Draynor. The monk was weaponless; in fact, all he did was engage in verbal conflict. The monk, due to his religion and nature, had roared out every swear word known to human beings, and even insulted Lance with some kind of Zamorakian profane language. The evil human cleric then capped it off by actually pointing his two middle fingers in a straight line while his beady red eyes glared into the Slayer's eyes with deep hatred. It was enough to drive Lance off the edge, and the normally calm Slayer had charged forward, reaching for his Longsword to end the monk's life. However, he had severely underestimated the monk; the Zamorakian worshipper fled with his tail between his legs, running as fast as lightning and hurling insults back at his pursuer. Lance never stopped either; his long legs kept pumping and finally the Slayer had cornered the monk at the bottom of a steep cliff near Rimmington. The monk then promptly disappeared.

Lance stood impatiently beside a bunch of dead grass, looking up and down the cliff. It was very brown and there were various ledges lined on it; lots of rocks protruded from the side. The Slayer then tucked his Longsword into its red sheath and took a brief look around the area he was currently standing in. Barren landscape pervaded every inch of the grim area west of Rimmington. The clear, azure sea lay lazily just south of the barren ground, and he could just make out signs of Hobgoblins wandering the beaches, picking at the green Snape Weed on littered everywhere. There weren't even any signs of trees; the Hobgoblins were the only signs of life here. As he turned his head towards the gleaming sun in the sky, his whole body jolted. What caught his eye was the strange, black-colored longhouse at the top of the cliff, alighted by the bright sun; whatever it housed, it made Lance climb the cliff. That was because a clear Zamorak symbol was stitched on a wooden pole protruding from the edged roof on the longhouse. The monk might just be there….after all, Zamorakians had ways of teleportation. Lance smiled slightly to himself, strapped on his tightest gloves and his sturdy climbing boots, and hurled himself onto a rock on the cliffside, preparing for a swift ascension.

"I am so gonna get that son of a goblin," Lance vowed as he grasped a rock tightly and forced his heavy body upwards. The Slayer, due to his nimbleness and lack of patience, had already scaled half of the cliffside. He didn't care about the increasing difference between his body and the ground itself, as he was never scared of heights. In fact, the brave Slayer had once ridden a Karamjan Jungle Eagle mighty high into the sky on a mission to exterminate some annoying Bronze Dragons which have escaped into the sky from their domain deep inside a jungle cave. He had been forced to turn 360 degrees upside down while clutching onto his Eagle, and he was never terrified by it. In fact, he liked the feeling. Even so, Lance was dead tired by now due to his heavy armor and backpack, and he clutched another rock, pulling himself onto a safe ledge. He slumped against the rough cliff wall and took a quick sip of water from his bottle. Beads of sweat were forming rapidly on his skin, covered by the humid armor he was wearing. The sun's rays seemed to be focusing on him the whole time. Lance gritted his teeth and placed his hands on another rock. He continued to scale the cliff, ducking his head narrowly to dodge a narrow spike sticking out.

"Ahh…it's gonna be a long day," Lance mused as he swung himself expertly on top of a narrow ledge; he landed on his climbing boots. "But I've got to track down that Zamorakian…there's more to him than it appears."

Approximately fifteen minutes later, the Slayer had managed to propel himself onto the cliff top with the last ounce of his fading strength. Climbing was more difficult than he thought as the Slayer collapsed onto the ground, panting in tiredness. He forced himself to stand up, and for a while he wobbled weakly on the ground as his legs regained their original strength. Lance could see the black building looming straight in front of him; a dense forest stood behind it, with parches of green grass spread widely around the area. Lance suddenly heard a noise, and spun around quickly, his sharp eyes darting around the landscape for any signs of danger. A barrage of flying arrows shot out from the forest, aiming straight at the Slayer. Lance's eyes widened, and then narrowed in hatred. He leapt to the side, avoiding the arrows, took a deep breath, and bashed open the door to the building with a single punch of his gnarled hand. A dim light shot out at him, illuminating his face clearly as he took a cautious step onto the thick carpet snaking from the end of the corridor. The torches on the walls cast wicked shadows on the wooden walls. Lance took another deep breath; he was ready to investigate the Zamorakian lair.

The corridor was long and dark, illuminated only with flaming torches that cast little light and the meager light that came through the extremely muddled windows. The corridor practically rumbled as the something heavy sheeted onto the roof, and the suddenly strong wind found its way through the battered remnants of the door, howling down the hall. Lance had wrapped himself in one of the robes that he had discovered lying on a granite bench, trying to stave off the cold, icy conditions protruding from the sudden wind assault.

Gradually, however, the temperature started to increase, and the wind's howling grew quieter. Lance also noticed that the corridor was no longer sloping upwards, and starting to level out. The building must be built on pillars and stilts. As the temperature grew from freezing to tolerable, he threw away his stolen robe onto the carpet and started to walk more sneakily, switching his Climbing Boots with soft Ninja shoes. After about half an hour of dodging patrols of more fighters who could only be best described as monks, Lance decided to get rid of his bag due to its added weight. Carefully, he picked the lock of a storage cupboard on a wall nearby and threw the bag inside. Just to be sure he would be safe storing it there, Lance carefully put a tiny coin he fished out from his pocket and put it in the door slot, at the base, clearly in sight but ignorable by most people. The moment he was done he stood back up, drew his sword, and moved on, continuing to walk slowly. The building was now slanting downwards, as if digging into the ground itself.

As he moved throughout the interior of the mountain in which the cliff edged out from, Lance noticed alertly that the air became warmer and moister. Strange sounds echoed throughout the narrow domain, like gigantic, muffled explosions. Lance had been to lava-filled caverns and found forests with unique ecosystems; but never before had he been anywhere as bizarre as this. The carpet had ended, and Lance stepped foot on solid ground; it was no longer polished floor tiles. He was about to leap across a corridor cross-roads, behind a group of red-dressed monks, when his foot fell in a moisture-formed puddle lying unnoticed on the ground, and a loud splash reverberated through the corridor. Lance froze instantly.

The monks stopped conversing and slowly turned. Lance turned at looked at them. In unison they drew back their hoods and threw off their cloaks swiftly. And then Lance had a brigade of sixteen sword-wielding, battle-trained, and really dangerous fit young men leaping their way down the corridor, straight towards him. Even though it was hardly a fair fight, Lance raised his sword bravely. The first two warriors flew through the air at him, shouting loudly and aiming their razor-tipped weapons at his chest. Quickly he raised his sword and slashed at them rapidly, dealing swift, accurate strokes. The first warrior wasn't injured, but the angle he was moving at made the area above his left ear hit the blade. Unconscious, his body slammed into the wall, and slid down to lie on the floor immobile. Lance turned and attacked the other warrior with equal confidence. This one wasn't so lucky – the blade splintered the sword he was wielding and drove itself across the man's hands. He fell back, one hand with two and a half fingers missing and the other retaining only a thumb and half a palm. He screamed as a geyser of blood erupted from his wounds, and collapsed, throbbing in agony.

The remaining monks were held transfixed as Lance easily finished off his first attackers. The next pair hesitated, just long enough to give Lance a window of time to escape. He seized the opportunity and bolted down one of the corridors, running as fast as he could. The monks behind him growled and shouted in anger as they watched Lance turn a corner and disappear from sight.

"Let's get him, boys!" a monk commanded. "We must avenge Zakok and Defah!" The others raised their swords in agreement before they charged.

As Lance sprinted he removed the torches from their racks, throwing them on the floor. It would slow him down but also hinder the pursuing monks' progress. After he had cleared on corridor he moved on, down another, entering a large hall. He stopped there and looked around, to see table after table of monks dining and talking. Blazing torches lined the wide walls, and smoke drifted from an iron spit in the middle, in which a Jubbly bird was being cooked on.

He couldn't believe it. He was in the mess hall.

"Sorry guys, but I gotta go!" Lance announced hurriedly, watching the monks stand up simultaneously, their eyes staring hard at the surprised Slayer.

As the monks started to leap over tables and glide through the air towards him, Lance ran possibly the fastest he had ever run out of the hall. He was presented with a dilemma of five different choices as he stopped at a corridor crossover. He didn't waste any time being picky – he ran down the middle one. The horde of monks followed him steadily. He dashed down the corridor, as suddenly there was a piercing cry from a strange instrument which sounded like a mix between a horn and drum. All the doors on either side of the corridor opened roughly, and the Slayer knew what was coming.

"Oh damn!" he muttered as he realized he was running right through the mountain's barrack blocks. Some of the monks were slow to react, giving Lance just enough time to pass through without gaining any injuries, and spin round to a smaller corridor on the right. In places it was so small he had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the iron pipes that ran overhead; he also had to edge his body accordingly, due to jagged spikes running along the bloodstained walls. He emerged, exhausted, to find himself in a new area, a gargantuan cavern that was basically a giant arboretum and botanical garden in one area. Beneath the oddly out-of-place foliage he darted down various earthen paths, picking at random on a route which he hoped would lead him to safety. He ran around a looming tree; he could hear the cries of battle-ready monks as they pursued him.

Suddenly, the trail stopped, leading to a corner. Lance stopped moments before he hit the granite rock face. The war-cries were growing louder and louder, closer and closer. Frantically Lance looked for an exit, his eyes darting around like mad. He ran his fingers over the wall, trying to find something that would open a door. Instead, his fingers ran over a very fine perimeter, and detecting this, he yanked the door open with all his might, revealing a low, dimly-lit passage. He sighed, and crawled through the well-hidden door; using the handle on the back of the disguised door to pulled it shut. He spied a lock on the side, and he latched it tightly. Moments later the pounding of fists rang through the narrow passage, but Lance continued on.

For a while, everything was the same --- a narrow rocky seam which spiraled up and down, seemly leading to nowhere. Lance was getting extremely tired of the same scenery, and he feared that it led to nowhere. It might be a trap, after all. The Slayer spied a dim light source poking through somewhere in front, and his confidence returned. He crawled faster, further through, and discovered that the passage was widening again. Delighted, he paused to re-sheath his sword, and he pulled his glove straps on tighter. The Slayer noticed a strong light coming from the outside as he continued to crawl, and found the answer immediately. Tons of Giant Rocs stood on a stone platform, compacted by earth and wood. He groaned.

"Dang it," Lance hissed as a Roc swiped at him, knocking the unprepared Slayer unconscious.

****************

Lance awoke to find himself in a circular room, bound tightly to a crude chair by a bunch of chains. Bright light shone down from an oval-shaped light bulb hanging on the polished ceiling. The walls were snowy white and bookshelves full of Zamorakian books stood beside an oak desk carved expertly. As Lance's eyesight regained its focus slowly, he drooped his neck and saw his own reflection on the well-polished floor tiles. He saw a ragged man, stripped of his armor and weapons, with a grim, dirty face. Lance sighed and glanced up, suddenly realizing someone else was in the room. He squinted and was able to distinguish a tall man clad in a black cloak, standing directly in front of him. The cloak was unclasped, and underneath Lance could see dragonhide armor trimmed with bright gold. The man radiated a sense of power. Lance tried to move, but the chains were iron-tight and he could not even move a single centimeter.

"Don't try moving, it could cause you severe injuries. By the way, welcome to our establishment, Lance Jaszas." The man rumbled in a rich voice.

Lance stared blankly at the man. "You know my name?"

"Of course, Mr. Jaszas. Everyone knows the accomplishments of the Slayer Lance Jaszas. Although I thought you were a more honorable figure, not someone who sneaks around private establishments of the government like a thief."

"Ah about that, I was chasing a filthy Zamorakian. By the looks of the monks here, I expect all of them to be Zamorakian; am I right?"

"You are."

"And, since when does any kingdom's government hire giant birds and Zamorakian monks to guard an establishment?"

The man smiled darkly. His black eyes seemed to expand. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the Grand Exchange! You can't hide it; I've recognized the building from the very start. Zamorakians have taken over a Grand Exchange building set out on a cliff…" Lance challenged. "It was confirmed when I saw several 'GE' symbols on the walls. Why?"

"Clever. The Grand Exchange is nothing but an elaborate cover story."

"Tell me why! I've just remembered; I've read somewhere that the main link of the Grand Exchange is set somewhere near Rimmington, in Asgarnia. This must be it!"

"Again, you are correct; you do have an impressive mind. That is why I'm gonna reveal to you everything…" the man stated.

"Go on."

"You see, Mr. Jaszas, I work for two men: Vyvin and Lord Statius."

"Sir Vyvin of the Falador White Knights?"

"Correct."

"What does that old man want with this facility?"

"To be king again. To be king of Gielinor, not just Asgarnia. He has agreed to ally the White Knights with the organization I'm from…the Serkotzul. Ever heard of that?"

Lance thought for a moment, and remembered the final meeting of the Ardougne Slayer Force, when Dirk spoke about the Serkotzul being active again. It was all connected!

"The Serkotzul! An evil organization bent on world domination! Don't tell me Vyvin _is_ planning for the conquest of the world, working with you evil people!" Lance whispered furiously.

"Exactly," the man answered, nodding. "It's a win-win situation. Vyvin takes over the world while we do at the same time. Anyway, my monks and Vancori's Rocs are here to look after this facility; after all, it's a critical stage in the plan."

"What would that be?"

"With Grand Exchanges all over Gielinor, set from the desert town of Al-Kharid to humble Lumbridge; from majestic Ardougne to fishers' village Catherby; from ancient Varrock to bustling Port Sarim. Can you think of an easier way to transport the Rocs around?"

Lance realized what the man had meant. With this establishment being the central link of the Exchanges; it could easily transfer objects, _or living things_, to other Exchanges at the speed of light via teleportation devices. If every Roc were to be teleported simultaneously, the world could be savaged instantly by talons.

"Very strategic planning, I must admit," Lance commented bitterly.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to see it. I won't kill you just yet---it might be useful to interrogate a prisoner about some…_interferers._ By the way, my name is Hidagyx Keston of the Serkotzul. Pleased to meet you, Lance Jaszas; I'll be back soon." With that, Hidagyx saluted the captured Slayer, turned, and headed out of a marble-constructed door. It slammed tightly behind the Serkotzul member.

_Can it be? This Hidagyx and the Serkotzul knows about Victoros and the others! _Lance nervously thought. _Damn it! I've got to escape somehow and destroy the teleportation links—I might not be able to survive, but at least I'll have saved the world from talons of the Rocs. _

He needed to escape, and he had to do it fast. The plan Hidagyx had revealed to him probably was going to be conducted now—he had to do something quick in order to prevent it. Although his Longsword had been removed, he still had some tricks up his sleeve. Lance dropped his head down as far as it could, and used his teeth to rip open the fake jewel of an amulet around his neck. The jewel looked like real ruby, but actually it was as soft as paper. Lance's teeth tore through it, and a small, expandable knife fell; Lance caught it expertly between his teeth, and used it to slice off the chains easily. The blade tore through the iron chains like scissors cutting through plain paper. This knife was capable of picking locks easily, too; as soon as Lance was free, the Slayer used the knife to pick the lock of the marble door, and a moment later he had the door opened. Lance ran outside, and saw his Dragon Longsword lying on a rack outside. He rushed over to it and picked it up, sheathing it safely before grabbing four burning torches from their racks roughly. He looked around the narrow corridor and found no doors—it was clear that there was a secret entrance somewhere. He wasn't going to find it, though. However, the walls were made entirely of wood, underneath all the white paint. Therefore, it was burnable. Lance thrusted the blazing torches forward and set fire to several logs on the ground. He picked one up and laid it next to the door. He did it several times over, and then fanned the flames for a few minutes with his hands, waiting for the wall to catch fire. Eventually, the flames latched onto the white surface, and the paint slowly peeled off. Then faster. Then faster still. Soon flames were creeping up the whole wall, and smoke was climbing up and gathering around the roof. Finally, the wall exploded in a hail of dust and flaming wood. Lance sucked in his breath and wasted no time in running outside. Glad to be free, he gritted his teeth and rested a calm hand on his sword sheath. He began to run—to save the world.

************

"Tonight, my friends, the Serkotzul and White Knights will rule the world," Hidagyx declared grandly. He was standing on a raised platform, speaking in front of a bunch of Zamorakian monks. Giant Rocs were perched on stands behind the monks. Beside Hidagyx sat Vancori and Rapter Henankez, two of his Serkotzul comrades.

"We'll take this world!" Hidagyx continued loudly.

The monks cheered wildly.

"We shall lead armies and conquer the world! We'll establish a grand empire that'll last forever!"

The crowd went mad.

"We'll rule Gielinor!"

The crowd screamed itself hoarse. Vancori watched in amusement.

"All I need to do is activate this rune and summon the teleportation devices that'll take us all over the world. Are you all in your correct groups and formations? Awesome. Truly excellent. You ready, Rapter, Vancori? Our conquest begins now…AAARGH!"

An arrow had cut clean through his hand, and emerging on the other side and going again back through the tip of his index finger, stopping a millimeter away from the rune that had been elaborately carved which served as a button. The arrow, however, had quite clearly destroyed the button. It was now useless.

Everyone turned and looked. Lance Jaszas stood there, clutching a bow and a quiver of arrows.

"Villainous plan averted!" Lance said. He smiled, dropped the quiver and bow, and dashed up a staircase built onto a wall.

Hidagyx was too busy moaning in pain to take charge. Rapter stood up. "After him, brothers!" he ordered loudly over the crowd's groan. The monks saluted the Serkotzul member and charged directly at Lance, who took no chances. He swiped wildly with his Sword, forcing several monks to back up.

Now the Rocs were diving for Lance. The Slayer quickly dashed into a nearby room and saw himself standing in front of a bunch of conveyor belts. Crates stuffed with items lined the walls. It was time for drastic action, and he had no choice but to escape through the conveyor belts. He jumped onto a conveyor belt and wobbled violently as the belt moved rapidly. He spied an open crate in front of him, with a sign stitched on it saying 'EXPLOSIVES—DO NOT TOUCH'. Lance grinned as a plan formulated in his mind.

He looked back quickly and saw Rocs gliding into the room, followed closely by hordes of angered Zamorakian monks. Lance hurriedly turned back to his work and grabbed out several Explosive Potions. He set them neatly on the belt beside him, and ripped open another crate to find several thick wires. A gigantic shadow covered him, and Lance saw a Roc flying right above him, preparing to end his life. The monks had leapt onto the various belts now and were coming straight for the Slayer, but he did not panic once. Lance attached the wires to several Rune Knives and stabbed the tip of the knives into the Potions. He flung them up, and his aim was true as the knife embedded itself into the ceiling. Sure enough, the impact was enough to make the Potion self-destruct; the Roc above him was blown completely away. The other Rocs stopped momentarily, distracted by the protruding cloud of smoke. Lance hurled more knives up, and the same thing happened. Soon everyone was covered smoke, including the monks. Lance, however, had already memorized the path to a portal in the north-east corner. He had mapped out the path of the belts when he had first entered the room, and due to the confusion he had caused, he had some time to reach his destination. The Rocs were flapping wildly, trying to blow the smoke away, but all they managed were blowing the monks below onto their butts. The monks howled and grunted as they tripped over each other, trying to search for Lance.

"Tough luck, eh?" Lance smirked as he finally reached the portal. The smoke had completely cleared by now, and he turned back to see the monks rushing forward, brandishing their weapons. The Rocs above turned their eyes to Lance and dived.

"See ya!" Lance bellowed. "Nice knowing y'all!" He could see the injured Hidagyx in front of the disorganized monks, shaking a bloodied fist at him in hatred. Lance sneered at the Serkotzul member and dived into the portal at last.

He looked up minutes later and saw a sign above him. Lance was lying in the midst of several crates in a circular, stone building. Outside, he could see many people bustling about in the familiar streets. He grinned; his work had been done, and he'll see Victoros again. As the Slayer stood up to leave the empty building, Lance turned and glanced at the sign again, before opening the large double doors and walking into the marketplace.

'Welcome to the Falador Grand Exchange'


	18. A Dreadful Discovery

"Well here we are again, Falador the great" Victoros said.

"Just compare the market here to the shops everywhere else," Nicolas stated.

All around the four of them were tens of people all rushing about buying as much as they could from stalls. The baker heaved a number of plates of bread loaves on to his stall, he was quickly running out of stock, and needed more.

"Look at him; he's making a heap of coins with his bakery stall!" Nicolas exclaimed.

"Well we don't know how to bake so we can't do the same," Victoros grumbled.

"Where are we going to stay?" Alexandros asked.

"Good question," Nicolas answered. "I don't know."

"How about there?" Joseph suggested, pointing to an old house currently uninhabited. At least, no sign of life was shown there.

"Looks good to me," Victoros said.

"You come back here!" The baker yelled.

Victoros, Joseph and Alexandros all turned to see Nicolas running towards them with a large chocolate cake in his hands. His face was shining with anticipation.

"What have you done now?" Victoros snapped.

"Tried to get us food, but my Claws of Guthix from behind crowds of people went a bit wrong and I got spotted," Nicolas reported quickly.

The market guards were running towards Nicolas, maces raised ready to attack.

"Idiot boy!" Victoros yelled dragging Nicolas away by his shoulder.

The four ran and ran until they had become lost in the crowd, having escaped from the guards.

"Sorry about that," Nicolas said.

"Why do you have to be so big-headed all the time? You need to calm down for goodness sake," Victoros grumbled.

"Alright Victoros, but it's only because you're a Slayer that I'm listening."

"Hey, Mr. Victor Os!" A voice called out loudly over the bustling crowd.

"Not an enemy, I hope," Victoros sighed.

"I know you! You're a Slayer! I really admire you!" Mathis Vendai yelled. The man ran up quickly, his breath in deep sags and his chest heaving from all the running.

"I'm a fan too, so join the fan club," Nicolas said standing in front of Mathis.

"Oh for Saradomin's sake I'm not here to cause an argument, I bring news that you must know," Mathis said.

"What is it?" Victoros asked.

"Come in here," Mathis insisted, pointing at a building in the distance.

The five of them entered the old abandoned building Mathis had come from. Mathis walked to the corner, piled up some large crates around them, and picked up the note displaying Vyvin's plot.

"Read this," Mathis ordered.

Victoros snatched it out of Mathis' hands and read the letter quickly from top to bottom. His eyes widened.

"Is this genuine?" Victoros asked.

"Look at the signature, real enough isn't it?" Mathis asked.

"That certainly does seem realistic, but how can I believe this?"

"Believe what?" Joseph asked.

"Believe that King Lathas is the cause of this whole damn economy problem," Victoros revealed.

"Well that's just ridiculous."

"Oh really? Well how comes then the every staff member at the Grand Exchange of Ardougne was killed? And then why were White Knights there at the scene of the murder?" Mathis asked. His eyes glanced straight into Victoros' large ones.

"You're quite the detective my friend," Nicolas said. "Let me read the note."

Mathis handed the note to Nicolas.

"It makes no sense, surely a monarch wouldn't be as stupid to try and accomplish this?" Nicolas asked.

"It would seem so," Mathis answered.

"Well no offense Mathis but this is the most rubbish I've ever seen-"

Suddenly the door was kicked through by a group of angry looking guards.

"They know too much!" yelled one of them.

"Then we will kill them," another said.

"Run!" Victoros shouted hurriedly.

Mathis, Alexandros, Nicolas and Joseph all escaped through a back door while Victoros swung his sword menacingly in front of the guards. They stepped back, but they then lunged forward with their maces; there were too many for Victoros to stop alone. The Slayer fended off a couple of smashes from the maces, but was knocked onto a crate by a guard from the side. As he got to his feet he sprinted out the back door, being pursued by guards.

"Kill on sight!" bellowed the first guard.

******

They had to find another place to hide, while they ran through the streets of Falador, hiding in every shadowy place they saw, and sometimes having to dispatch a few guards; They finally found a place, an upside down cart, they crawled under it and rested a little in the shade. Mathis' sharp eyes kept vigilant watch for more enemies.

"What about if we fight them and finish this once for all?" Nicolas asked.

"Well, I guess we could try," Victoros replied.

"Whatever is happening in Falador Castle is destroying the world slowly, and Vyvin is completely insane, and if we don't stop him then Saradomin knows what will happen." Mathis muttered.

"How about that Serkotzul man you mentioned?" Victoros inquired. "My former leader Dirk asked me to look out for any members of that notorious organization. By the way, that's something I'm gonna do; I'll kill Vyvin for forcing the ASF to disband!"

Joseph looked at him in concern. "You don't kill humans, do you?"

"This time it's really an exception. I promise I won't leave this city without having my sword draped in Vyvin's blood," Victoros vowed in anger, glancing at his prized Godsword. His hands trembled with excitement. It was then that they all heard rapid footsteps rumbling across the street towards their direction. Two shadows emerged.

Alexandros crawled out from underneath the cart and confronted the two guards who had come to kill them. The guards wore iron chainbodies with their swords sheathed at their sides. One of the guards, however, had an evil expression on his face. He was wielding a gigantic torch flickering bright shades of orange!

"I'll burn you all for the love of Vyvin," the guard hissed, and prepared to hurl the torch at the cart, only to be stabbed in the chest by a sword. Red blood gushed out of the wound, and the guard's mouth dropped in horror. Victoros' angered face rose up to meet the dying guard's, and Nicolas hurriedly extinguished the blazing torch-weapon with a Water spell. The other guard tried to escape, but Alexandros pummeled him on the head with his Battleaxe, killing him instantly. Mathis quickly gathered the two corpses of the guards and hid them in a bush, hoping it would suffice as a hiding place.

"You see, this is a start, but my sword's gonna be covered in Vyvin's, and hopefully the Serkotzul's bloods soon enough," Victoros growled as he cleaned his Sword with a smooth cleaning cloth.

"We're going to get to the bottom of this, guys," Alexandros promised as he slapped hands with Nicolas.

"That's the spirit, but it's going to be a difficult task my friends."


	19. The Villain, The Resistance, & The Plan

Sir Vyvin looked out of his castle windows; the landscape was that of a bustling city, filled with gleaming white buildings. A knock at the door happened, and Vyvin's servant entered briskly. His name was Koaphen Johnston, and he wore a crimson colored outfit which signified wealth, while Vyvin was wearing a brighter shade of red for his tunic and on his head was a spectacularly gold crown.

"Koaphen! Here now!" Vyvin exclaimed.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Koaphen asked.

"Ah, I like it when you use Your Majesty; I like it so very much! Look! Look out there!"

Vyvin grabbed Koaphen and dragged him towards the open window.

"Look at the landscape. All of it, soon it will be mine," Vyvin grinned.

"Yes Your Majesty, it will," Koaphen answered. "Obviously," he couldn't help adding in undertone.

"Damn right it will! Now has Varrock, Ardougne and all those other cities sent their messengers?"

"Yes, yes. They said the prices in the Grand Exchanges have gone incredibly low, it would appear the teleport system has collapsed somehow."

"That is good, and how about their other trade methods?"

"Well travelling trade is down a further 30% as of this week, and the trade within shops is decreasing by a further 49%. Sources also say that the general stores around Gielinor made just around 2000 coins last week, the worst profits since the supposed attack from Morytania, when everyone fled."

"Ah yes, I remember that. Something about werewolves crossing the border, they never found out if any of it was true did they?"

"No, Your Majesty. Oh yes, and the Socialist Army request a meeting with you once again. They say it's urgent." Koaphen remembered.

"That's the fifth time this week they've come in poking about, if they carry on they might uncover something! I guess I should let them speak, besides, I might be able to pull a bit more money from this group, I've never met them before."

"And there are sightings of a TzHaar in the city, too."

"A TzHaar? Ha, the foolish thing, I'll send my guards to kill it if I remember."

"There was a powerful weapon though; they call it the Xil-Gun or Gun for short. It is linked with the Socialists, they want it, and they might have it."

"Well then isn't it lucky that I have an army equipped with godswords ready to tear any opposition apart?" Vyvin exclaimed.

"Yes, Your Majesty, it is."

"Any news from the Serkotzul?"

"It seems Lord Statius and the remaining Serkotzul members will join us in the fight as allies."

"Great," Vyvin smiled.

Vyvin was sitting on his throne, grinning in a reverie, when the doors suddenly burst open. Koaphen made a move towards the open doors, but General Vaarku, his face angry, had made his entry. All guards rushed to him, shouting "Freeze!", but he ignored them and approached Vyvin. A guard tried to stab him but the General just flung out an arm, knocking the guard onto a nearby wall.

"I've had it with waiting Vyvin! We've come here 5 times, and your people keep saying you're busy. A slob like yourself is never busy! Face the facts!" Vaarku accused, pointing a finger at Vyvin.

"Me slob? How dare you! How did you get past security?"

"None of your business, bastard!"

"Ooh man, you're pissing me off! Who are you anyway, man?"

"I am General Vaarku, current leader of the Socialists. We are on a man-hunt of three criminals who are within the city. We originally intended to do a full search in this palace, but I stumbled across something else."

"What was that?"

"You damn well know what I mean! You have a secret army nearby! And the world has suddenly financially died. It's all linked to Falador, possibly you. I am not the only one who discovered this. I'm sure of it!"

"You can't talk! You Socialists are a secret army! You're planning to dominate the world!"

"So are you!" Vaarku retorted.

"I did my homework on you. You lot were last seen in the TzHaar city. You found the Chest of Destiny. You even forged a weapon of mass destruction - "

"That weapon is destroyed! What, do you have spies everywhere all of a sudden?"

"In some areas yes. Now make like a tree and leave! Or I'll send you down screaming!" Vyvin shrieked.

"One last thing though. You've ordered godswords from the vaults of the Grand Exchange. You're insane, more insane than me!"

"Who can stop me? You and your stupid little Troublesomes?"

"Believe me Vyvin, this ain't over. When the man-hunt is over, I will not let you take over the world! I mean it, and I keep my word!"

"And I won't let you leave this room. Guards, get him outta here now!" Vyvin commanded grandly.

Suddenly, two Guards walked into the large room, equipped with two Zamorak Godswords.

"Dispose of him. Make it a clean fight, because I can't be bothered to mop up afterwards!" Vyvin cackled maniacally. "Go on!"

But General Vaarku drew an explosive potion and threw it heavily. The guards were flung out of the nearby window by the small explosion, and the General got away by rushing out the open door.

The General ran outside the castle and whistled through his fingers. Some Socialist troops arrived stealthily.

"Send a message to the rest of the army! Gather up arms! We march to war!" Vaarku barked. The soldiers saluted him, and turned.

The soldiers marched out of the city, while General Vaarku hid in an abandoned house in Falador. He took a godsword from an unconscious guard nearby.

"The Falador Exchange? Wh-" Lance did not get to finish his sentence.

"Yes, yes, I know it's confusing but you were teleported here from the Grand Exchange link," said a town guard.

"But why? I could've stopped all of this! Vyvin was taking over the Grand Exchange! He was going to claim it as his own and manipulate the world!"

"What on Gielinor are you talking about?"

"Perhaps he's a Seer," said another guard.

"Seriously!" Lance protested. "You're working for a madman!"

"You're insane," a guard laughed. "I bid you good day." With that, the guards marched away, leaving Lance standing there openmouthed.

The Slayer started to walk along a street, looking for Victoros.

Allen, Takrinqer and Darko were rooted to the spot. The man only a few footsteps away was Victoros, the person they had bullied in their time at school. Now he was carrying something which rivalled a godsword, and they were stuck with rusty old daggers for the time being, although they could still use their original but heavy weapons. Plus Victoros now radiated a sense of power. They were an unusual group who had stuck to the shadows for much of their journey, trying to hide the fight-obsessed TzHaar they had come with and their own shadowy selves.

"You know this man?" Crantus inquired.

"Yes, we damn well do," Allen replied, his voice stammering.

"Let's introduce ourselves then," Crantus mumbled, "I like meeting new people."

"Well let's not be too hasty," Takrinqer suggested, his eye twitching.

It was too late. Crantus had rushed forward and grabbed Victoros' attention, which was met with some surprise.

"Now what do you want?" Victoros asked, surprised. "Not 'nother fan?"

"Answer!" Alexandros snapped, cracking his knuckles. "Or I'll cut you up." Crantus did not step back.

"My friend, you're not cutting me up, and if you think of trying to then my Darklight will be all too happy to cut your skinny body in two," Crantus said calmly. "Now I'm here to tell you about three folk I've travelled with who claim to know you Victoros.

Crantus gestured at Allen, Takrinqer and Darko who were all standing still quite surprised. They grinned nervously.

"Oh. Well, well, well, if it isn't the three fools from Varrock School. Fancy seeing you here," Victoros grinned raising his sword. "Let's finish something, eh?"

"You know these people?" Joseph asked.

"Yes I do Joseph. They happened to bully me a bit at school, so I think I owe them one."

Tarqinder hit Allen in the face with his Sword handle causing him to fall to the ground heavily, and slammed the flat side of his blade into the feet of Takrinqer and Darko who landed flat on their backs. Vincent and Crantus hurriedly rushed over and helped them up.

"Hey Victoros," Allen uttered, barely able to speak from the pain.

"Well hello Allen Hawkins, hasn't time changed? If I remember correctly you stole all my trading cards and dumped them in the River Lum that time. I wasn't happy, was I?" Victoros demanded, his eyes flaring.

"Let's forget about it. Bygones be bygones how about th-"

Victoros stabbed into Allen's shirt with his sword and pinned him to the wall by it, three foot above the ground. The Slayer practically slammed his sword into the wall when he pinned Allen, who was squirming, trying to get free.

"Okay, now I'm prepared to forgive and forget," Tarqinder grinned, pulling his sword out of Allen's top.

Allen fell to the floor with a loud thud. But he grabbed his whip hurriedly, and whipped Victoros' feet. Tarqinder jumped and yelled in surprise, as everyone sprang to their feet, ready for tense combat. Darko raised his poisoned daggers and held them up to Nicolas' throat. Takrinqer drew his Dragon Dagger, and held the poisoned tip inches from Alexandros' exposed neck. Vincent raised his sword at Joseph, wagging his eyebrows. Crantus held Mathis by the throat. Everyone froze.

"Now Vicky, I don't know why you threatened me first. Darko was the ringleader, we just followed his lead!" sneered Allen. "Give me some respect, man!"

"In those days it was either bully or be bullied!" Darko snapped at Victoros, who was grabbing his whipped part, grimacing.

"Wind us again, and you'll end up paying for the funerals of your little friends here. You don't want that, eh? Kettok, come out!"

Kot-Tok emerged from the shadows and picked up Victoros with one arm.

"Touch them again and you'll be sorry!" he bellowed. He promptly slammed the Slayer to the ground.

Victoros was released, but Allen pulled his shirt.

"Info. Now!" Allen demanded commandingly.

Victoros sheepishly grabbed the note and handed it over to Allen. He read it thoroughly.

"Sir Vyvin is hellbent on taking over the world. Worse than the Socialists!" Allen said aloud. "And the Serkotzul too. Interesting."

"Who're the Socialists again?" Mathis uttered.

"Secret army. Possibly the largest on the planet. They were the soldiers running around Falador earlier," Takrinqer answered. "They have some kind of grudge against us."

"Look Vicky, I'm guessing you are here to stop him. Just tell us your plan, and we'll go along. Besides, you need more in your company. Whether you like it or not. Do a stunt like earlier again, and we will utterly destroy you. Remember, we are much stronger." Allen snarled.

"Yeah, we are!" Vincent boomed.

"Release them, guys," Allen muttered.

Victoros' friends were released by their captors, and Allen's gang sat down. Victoros and his gang were too nervous, knowing they had untrustworthy allies. They couldn't do anything, since Allen's gang was far stronger.

"Well, spit it out!" Allen barked impatiently.

"Goodness you bunch of idiots, I'm a Slayer, and you're not pushing me about."

Tarqinder slammed his sword into the wall next to Allen, missing him by inches. The wood shattered, Allen flinched.

"TzHaar are strong! I will burn your skin human!" Kot-Tok exclaimed.

"For Saradomin's sake all of you be quiet for once! You'll get nowhere through arguing," Alexandros complained.

"The soldier's right," Allen sighed. Alexandros nodded, smiling.

"Please Victoros, we need your help," Takrinqer pleaded.

"Or we'll get rough," Crantus threatened. Allen shushed his companion.

"We are the same, well, sort of. I know it's difficult but can't we put our differences aside for good and maybe try and get something done here? Vyvin is destroying the world! However mad it seems, if it's written on paper then it must be true, Vyvin' seal is on here as well," Darko stated.

"Fine, but anymore of your rubbish and I'll use this sword that goes to all of you! Allen, Takrinqer, Darko, guard guy, TzHaar and Crantus-guy!" Victoros grunted.

"Use my name!" Vincent grumbled. "It's Vincent Jamison to you, Slayer."

"So Victoros, what are we going to do?" Allen asked.

"I thought you lot were criminal masterminds, so why don't you come up with one?" Tarqinder asked.

"Ha, ha, ha," Allen sneered sarcastically. "This is a bit more big scale than the usual heists we tend to be involved with."

"Alright then. We need to get to some extreme procedures, and I'm afraid that we will have to do something not too nice."

"What?"

"Kill Vyvin and capture his Castle, and preferably wipe the Serkotzul out too."

"How do you intend to do that? Throw a dragon at him?" Takrinqer sneered.

"The Serkotzul are dangerous, remember?" Mathis added.

"Actually, there are enough of us to stage an attack" Robert explained.

Kettok pumped his fists. "I'll gladly help!"

"But I'm fighting to the end. I don't want Vyvin ruling, hes insane!" Crantus cried.

"Fair enough. Anyway, judging from looking at Vicky's gang, we are pretty well damn good armed. Lets just storm in, weapons raised, and hope their hands held high as the sky" Allen suggested grimly. Most of the people seemed to agree, but Victoros didn't approve. He shook his head.

"That's not a strategy, its suicide. He possibly has a secret army that will overpower us. He is insane, after all! How about the Serkotzul, eh? I bet they ain't rookies either," Victoros reminded his former classmate.

"Your call, Victoros," Allen smirked. His gang exchanged quick glances.

"You didn't call me Vicky!"

"Never mind that, Victoros. So, are we going along with my plan of extreme success rate, or with your so-called strategy?"


	20. NOTICE! Please Read

Sorry for the lack of updates, but I've been working on some of my other fanfics. I'll get back to finishing this story off in a few days; it's nearing it's climax, isn't it? I'm planning to make the final chapter of Saving Gielinor, which probably will be a full-out war between the Resistance (Victoros' group), the Socialists, the Serkotzul and of course Sir Vyvin's White Knights, after I finish the chapter outline. Thanks for waiting, I'll update again soon!


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